


A Lonely View of Heaven

by Xrost



Category: Companions of the Night - Vivian Vande Velde
Genre: College, F/M, Mind Games, Post-Series, Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xrost/pseuds/Xrost
Summary: He came back. Afterwards she realised that she expected it the same way one expected the tide to roll in or the sun to rise again.





	1. Chapter 1

He came back.

Afterwards she realised that she expected it the same way one expected the tide to roll in or the sun to rise again. There was a sort of inevitability to it, though she could hardly say why. Easier to explain the push and pull of tides or rise of the sun.

It was in a Laundromat of all places. Kerry was doing that poor college student thing that was more birth-right than anything in her part of the world. Eve must have seen him first, because Kerry heard her let out a long, low breath. She looked up; and there he was.

Ethan – no, Michel's mouth pulled upward in amusement that was not wholly un-predatory. Still the same then. In looks, because vampires couldn't change; and in nature possibly because he wouldn't.

Kerry let her face break into a dazzling grin; shorn of anything but delight. "Teddy!" she cried and threw herself out of the hard plastic Laundromat chairs and at him. In the instant before her body connected with his, she had the impression that fleeting uncertainty darkened his eyes. Then she hit him hard enough that it hurt and her legs were around him and she was holding tight, hugging and gasping out some sort of a greeting broken up by her laughter.

His body stumbled under her weight, half-turning from the way she'd slammed in to him, even though she knew that it shouldn't have, so he still had the presence of mind to act human in front of company.

After a moment, she let him put her down, smiling up into his face. Oh yes, he was going to be furious. That just made her laugh more. It probably wasn't safe. She knew that she definitely didn't fit into the category of child any longer; but surely he wouldn't try anything with her friends right there. "Let me introduce you," she breathed, throwing an arm around him as she started to turn back to them.

He caught her gently by her elbow, watching her face. Assessing her for weaknesses. How very vampire of him.

She let him study her, amusement playing around her mouth before she reached up with both hands and pushed them through his hair. "Your hair," she said, letting disappointment seep into every syllable uttered, even though his hair had not changed. "What happened?"

His mouth smiled, his eyes did not. Catching her wrists gently, he pulled her hands away from him. "A barber happened. I see you're not entirely unfamiliar with the breed." As he spoke, he released one of her wrists to touch the fringe of her messy pixie-cut. He sounded reproving; as though she had hacked those unruly curls off specifically to hurt him.

It made her smile, flicking her head to toss her fringe out of her eyes. "Do you like it?" She made sure her voice was cocky, verging on arrogant; as though she was confident he would love it. The truth was that she didn't care what he thought. She was wearing her scruffiest pair of track-pants with the unfortunate hole high up on the right thigh from where Eve had dropped a lit cigarette, her hair hadn't been brushed since the previous night and she, yet again, had neglected to throw on a bra. This was obviously another vampire game. Wait until the already vulnerable human felt even more defenceless and swoop down to rub it in; well, Kerry was one up on Michel in that mind game. She didn't do vulnerable anymore. At least, not for him.

When he didn't immediately answer, she half-turned back to the two girls curled up in the corner with bags of gummi bears. They were peering over their Statistics textbooks and Eve at least looked as though she wished that she hadn't neglected her make-up. "Eve, Sarah, meet Teddy."

Sarah creased her nose, and Kerry could tell that she was trying to figure out how to get rid of Michel before he ruined their study session. She was generally easy-going, but the exam was tomorrow. If it was one of Kerry's exams, she would have been practically shoving Michel at the door; but that might have been more due to the fact that she neglected her classes far too often.

"So you're not doing laundry," she pointed out, her tone dry. He didn't have a hamper and she thought that he might have tried to be more prepared if he was going to start pulling crap on her. At least make it look authentic.

He smiled, slow and easy. It wasn't the smile she'd grown used to in her few days with him; the one that was all dark corners and sharp teeth. This was the one he had first used on her, when he'd been trying to make her believe he was a freshly-scrubbed college kid. "Nope. Avoided that nightmare for today. Did you want to grab a coffee?"

"Study," said Kerry, shrugging and making a face. She shot another quick look over her shoulder to grin at Sarah, and added, "Also, laundry. Give me your number. I'll call you after the insanity that is exam week and the mandatory week of sleep right after."

His eyes widened before narrowing. He wasn't used to being hindered, and Kerry was willing to bet that there was no way he was going to become used to it. Leaning back into the Laundromat's doorframe, he stretched his lithe body, giving her a perfect view of the play of muscles up his side. His thin T-shirt did nothing to hide what was underneath and, damn it all, that still worked on her. She felt her cheeks heating up. "Mandatory week of sleep," he murmured once she was sure her blush was a neon-bright pulsating red. "I could help you with that."

"Ah," she said, trying not to consider the undertones of that. Then she leant forward and caught him, her short nails digging into the back of his neck as she drew him closer. "Much as I believe that your presence could put me to sleep; unnecessary in exam week, Michel." She kept her voice so soft that she could barely hear the words, but vampires could hear heartbeats in rooms that they were not in. He could keep up. "I'll give you my number," she said, voice louder and cheerful as she pulled away and backed up towards her bag. "You can call me."

It took her a moment to find her phone among the scraps of note paper, pens and sticks of gum. When she had it in her hand, she scrolled to her own number and walked back to Michel, holding the phone out so that he could see the screen.

He smiled, looking exasperated. There was something in his eyes that reminded her of that first Laundromat they'd been in, when they'd both been trapped and terrified. Or maybe he hadn't been terrified. It was hard to say with a vampire. "Would your friends mind if I hung around for a bit?" He stretched again, not to embarrass her this time. This time, she thought that he was trying to figure out the right way to talk to her. He shrugged, just the barest hint of his shoulders moving. "It's been a while. If we don't catch up now, who knows what might happen?"

Kerry was watching Michel's eyes as he spoke, he didn't say the last words, but she knew that they were there. Dark as a curse. _Who knows what might happen…to you?_ And hell no, he was _not_ threatening her. Then she saw his eyes flicker, and all at once, she realised that, no, he wasn't. But someone was; and whatever it was was bad enough that Michel was here, refusing to leave and without even a clothes hamper as a thin but realistic cover story. "Huh," said Kerry. "I thought you'd never ask. I'm trying to study for my Medieval Demonology class and you know what I'm like with dates and numbers."

"No," said Michel, tilting his head in a way that he'd never done around her before. Likely he was going to be smug about the fact that she was studying demonology later. "What are you like?"

"Well, I'm brilliant," said Kerry, frowning at him. "But I was trying to make you feel included."


	2. Chapter 2

They settled into the uncomfortable plastic seats; Kerry dragging her demonology tome across the bench to herself. The textbook was a heavy but comforting weight in her lap. It shielded her against the immediate necessity for action. Buried in the witch-hunts of the 14th century; she didn't need to out-think Michel, didn't need to worry about what danger she or he might be in. At nineteen she had defences that she hadn't even considered at sixteen. She'd spent years making sure that no matter what happened, she would be prepared for it. And she was; but she needed to adjust.

She didn't have time to before Michel leant right into her personal space, reading her book over her shoulder which was now pressed against his chest. He wasn't as cold when she was expecting it, but she elbowed him away from her anyway. He knew that she needed space; he wasn't going to give it to her. So much easier to keep her compliant if she was confused and couldn't get her thoughts together.

Pulling her legs up, she propped her feet on the edge of her seat and balanced the textbook on her knees. It wouldn't exactly stop Michel from reading over her shoulder, but it would stop him from seeing her expression. He leant his shoulder against hers. He was being gentler and less sarcastic than he would have been had her friends not been around; probably trying to play the role of Teddy until he didn't have to anymore, and he could shake the persona off like an unwanted skin. She had a feeling he wouldn't be forgiving when he did.

Plans; that was the way to go. She could make her own now, didn't need to trust blindly in someone else to get her out of trouble. There was a whole arsenal of resources at her disposal; all she had to do was think.

"Jeanne d'Arc." Michel's voice was soft and sounded like a warning. She had expected him to try and distract her another way when getting into her personal space had failed so she didn't flinch.

"I'm studying witchcraft. Joan was burnt for heresy," Kerry pointed out.

Michel leant back in his seat and smiled at her, the points of his canines just visible. "You're the expert," he said as though indulging a childish whim and traces of his accent clung to his words this time, almost too subtle to catch.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Kerry frowned at him. He was French, old enough that he'd stripped his accent from his speech. Joan had died in 1431. That would make him…Kerry shook her head. Too old. He was messing with her again. "If you're not going to help me study, help them," she said, waving a hand at Sarah and Eve.

"Oh no, I'd rather help you." He sounded preppy and innocent, as though he still belonged to the daylight and Kerry creased her nose. She was going to have to give her shield up and face him, and the situation, again sometime though so she snapped her textbook shut, earning an annoyed whine from Sarah who was more deeply buried in her statistics than Kerry had been in her history.

Leaning across Eve, Kerry caught the packet of gummi fruits, clawing her short fingernails into the slippery plastic as she drew them to her like a prize. "Over here," she said, shoving at Michel's shoulder until he relented enough to move to the opposite side of the Laundromat with her.

The full front was an expanse of windows that let the sun in during the daytime and the streetlights at night. Kerry sat on the bench under the windows, staring up the darkened street. She didn't know what she was looking for, but hoped her instincts would help her out if it came to that.

"You moved just about as far from me as you could get." Michel must have been talking about her move to college, though his tone was light, unconcerned. He was impossible to read in a mood like this. Possibly he really didn't care and was trying to make her think that he did. Possibly he was angry about it, or it amused him. There was no reason for him to feel anything about it so Kerry decided that he didn't. No point discussing something that didn't matter. She played with the hole in the thigh of her pants and kept watch.

Michel followed her gaze; glancing into the shadows of the street outside before looking back at her. Three years should have given her enough time to teach herself to twist truths into lies that were so pretty they could almost be believed but she realised that she still had nothing on him. Even the way that he was holding himself was making her believe that everything here centred on her; and she knew Michel better than that.

"So what is it?" she asked, leaning forward and smiling so that her eyes would glow even under the bright fluorescents of the Laundromat. Even after all this time he'd understand that she was asking what was stalking her. When his mouth quirked up into a grin, sharp and cold now that her friends couldn't see his face, she held up a hand. "No, don't tell me. Give me a hint."

Her evident delight in being hunted might have fazed him, but he was through giving her the satisfaction of seeing it. He matched her enjoyment with a less savage smile and curled up beside her, still reminding her more of a cat than anything else. Leaning close, he spoke softly when he was level with her ear. "Wait and see."

"Hn," Kerry nearly purred. "It's just like Christmas."

That made him laugh, breath brushing the ends of her hair, but Kerry couldn't tell whether he was surprised or just teasing her.

Across the room the first machine beeped out its signal that the cycle was over. Michel lifted his head and glanced across at it.

"Mine," said Kerry, getting up just as the second machine started beeping. She caught up her washing basket from Eve's feet and began piling her mish-mash of damp clothes into it, trying not to think about what she had had in this load. As it was Michel raised an eyebrow at the conglomeration of lights, coloureds and darks that had been in the same cycle together. He might have also been scandalised that she was washing towels with her normal clothes, but she wasn't really sure how much vampires knew about laundry so maybe she was just being over-sensitive. "Alright." Throwing her textbook on top of her clothes in the basket, Kerry straightened and looked at her friends. "You guys coming home or staying longer?"

Not even looking up from her book, Sarah waved Kerry away.

"Gotcha." Kerry hoisted the basket up against her hip and held it there with one hand. With Michel showing up and all she might have warned them to be careful walking home, but it could hardly help. As careful as they might be, it wouldn't prevent them being hurt if someone really wanted to hurt them. And it was just a bit patronising to ask them to try and prevent something that they had no control over.

"Would you like me to carry that?" Michel asked as they reached the street outside. It was colder than Kerry had thought it would be and she shivered a little.

"I'm perfectly competent, Teddy," she said, letting her words take on a hard edge.

He snorted. "Teddy. Really?" His tone had its own hard edge; one that seemed laced with poison for good measure. She'd been right, that name had really pissed him off.

She smiled at him. The shadows of the streetlights suited him far more than the brightness of the Laundromat had. They sharpened his features; highlighting the angles of his face, deepening the hollows. They softened his eyes. He looked beautiful. As always. "I like Teddy," she said softly. "It's a name I've always sort of kept, you know, for future use."

Michel seemed to consider this. "In case you ever had a son," he said, not sounding pleased with the situation.

"Oh God no," said Kerry, staring at him in horror. "In case I ever got a puppy."

Michel sighed. "What is this? What have I done wrong now?" He sounded exasperated rather than hurt.

"For God's sake, Teddy, I'm delighted that you're here. Do you think I'd give my future toy poodle's name to just anyone?"

He laughed at that before scowling as though he wasn't amused that she'd amused him. Maybe it was different when he was laughing at her jokes rather than at her. "This is because I dragged you into that adult shop last time," he said darkly.

Kerry hummed a reply that he wouldn't really be able to take as confirmation or denial. Silence pushed conversations unlike almost anything else and so she lapsed into one; seeing if it would push Michel. Here he bested her; throwing her a mocking smile once the silence had gone beyond what was polite. By the time they reached Kerry's street, her skin was crawling with discomfort and the desire to say something; anything. Being quiet had never been her strong suit. "You win," she said, laughing easily as they reached the front steps of her apartment building. "Again, as though anything's new. Now, thank you for walking me home…"

"And coming inside," added Michel tone cool and certain.

Tilting her head, Kerry studied him.

"We're not like in the movies, Kerry. We don't need an invitation to get inside."

"It's a vampire that's after me then," said Kerry.

A shadow crossed Michel's features; annoyance that he'd given that much away, maybe? Then he shrugged, face open and self-assured.

Resting the laundry basket on her front rail, Kerry glanced down at her wrist to check the time. Still pretty early, considering. There'd be more than enough time for some unknown vampire to find and kill her before getting back to its day-time hidey-hole.

"You're so human," said Michel, the contempt in his tone enough to rend a person's confidence asunder.

Kerry wasn't just any person. "Thank you," she said, shoving a hand into her bag and searching for her keys with the tips of her fingers.

Michel didn't speak until she slotted one of them into the lobby door-lock. "Having a vampire around may not appeal to you, but better me than one you don't know."

"You are one that I don't know," Kerry pointed out, pushing the door open while anchoring the basket with her other hand. She jerked her head to motion Michel through and he walked in. "As it is," she said conversationally as she followed him. "I'm more worried about you making fun of my room than of you fanging me."

"Fanging is not a vampire term," Michel informed her, walking across the checked tiles to press the elevator button.

Kerry gave him an arch look. "I'm not surprised."

Michel returned her look with an indulgent one. "Go on," he said, tone smoky and dark and so many other things that she shouldn't be wanting.

Dropping her basket on the floor in front of the lift, Kerry frowned at him.

"You set that line up for me to walk into. Imagine I've walked into it. Why are you not surprised?"

Kerry smiled at him. She hadn't had anyone who could keep up with her when she was like this for far too long. She'd missed it, she realised. "Language," she said. "Changing, evolving, growing language is living. Vampires are dead."

Michel laughed. "The implication being that we're not capable of coming up with a new vocabulary?"

The lift pinged and the doors creaked laboriously open. Kicking the laundry basket along the tiles and into it, Kerry threw a bright smile over her shoulder at him. "If the glove fits, Ted." Even though she knew it didn't. Vampires had to be able to adapt if they were to survive; she was sure that their vocabulary would adapt with them.

When Kerry had finally kicked the laundry basket into the elevator, Michel raised an eyebrow at her. She was pretty sure that the eyebrow was some sort of negative commentary on her house-keeping skills, but she ignored it. It wasn't as though her confidence was based on her ability to do the laundry. Her life may have been one of laborious study and noodle-eating poverty but she had not descended to that level of weirdness.

Michel tensed as the lift stopped on Kerry's floor. The change was so slight that had she not been studying him surreptitiously, she would not have caught it. As it was, she waited until the elevator doors had opened and let Michel leave before she did; all too aware that all she had on her that might be used as a weapon were her keys.

There was nothing out of place on the landing. It was the same cracked tiled floors and faded walls that it always was. Kerry carried the basket to her door and slotted her key into the lock with her free hand, moving fast in case she needed to.

When they were both safely in her apartment with the door locked behind them, she let out the breath she had not known she'd been holding. A glance across at Michel told her that it hadn't escaped him. She smiled sharply.

"So, this is my place," she said, dropping her laundry basket once more and bending to grab a shirt out of it. Michel had already left her to check the rooms. "Feel free to look around," she called after him, a little dryly.

When he came back she'd hung most of her clothes on the fold-away clothes dryer they had and had draped the remainder over the backs of the kitchen table's chairs.

The look he gave her was one of annoyance, as though his delicate sensibilities had been hurt by Kerry's inability to do laundry in the way God had intended. She ignored the look in favour of searching the cupboards for something to eat. "You do know that the Laundromat has dryers, don't you?"

"Two packets of noodles, half a block of chocolate or one chocolate bar," said Kerry, finding a nut-bar that probably belonged to Eve and snatching it up.

"No thank you," Michel replied, frowning at her as she turned back towards him.

"I wasn't offering," said Kerry. "That's what you can buy with the money you save from using the Laundromat dryers. Two packs of noodles, or half a block of chocolate, or a chocolate bar."

Narrowing his eyes, Michel studied her. He probably didn't have to worry about mundane things like finances. He definitely didn't have to worry about his next sugar fix. So this was probably all terribly banal to him and chances were that he'd decide he didn't mind if she died after all, if all she could spend her time doing was hanging clothes around the apartment.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Are you offering now?"

Kerry smiled. "I'm being polite. We can go out somewhere if you want to eat. I'm guessing you have some sort of method that doesn't necessitate being at someone's house?"

Michel shrugged. "Of course."

A horrible thought occurred to Kerry. "Eve and Sarah are not food," she said.

That made him smile. "No need to be jealous, I have no plans to drink your friends."

"I'm not food either," said Kerry.

Michel's gaze swept across her; devouring slowly. Had she been younger, she would have fidgeted in discomfort. As it was, she had trouble keeping still. "No," he said finally, voice soft. "You are most certainly not food."


	3. Chapter 3

Michel stayed until the night was nearly over, not talking to Kerry or even watching movies or listening to music with her. Gods, no, that would be far too convivial for someone like him. He read a book he found on one of her shelves; correcting it in red pen while she went back to studying for her exam. It might have been a bit over-done, she thought. Him showing up with literally nothing save the clothes on his back. It would make her think the situation was serious and that danger could well be lurking just around the corner. Maybe that had been what he'd been aiming for. Kerry wondered whether anyone was even after her before shaking herself and reading a passage on wood carvings for the third time. Her flatmates had come back home sometime during the night, laughing and talking too loudly for the paper-thin walls. It had made Kerry relax a little, even though she hadn't known that she'd been worried about them.

Finally Michel stood up and stretched. Not something that he needed to do. It was probably learned behaviour for a vampire; something to keep humans from suspecting the truth. Kerry wondered whether he was using it on her out of habit or to be polite. Being around someone who didn't need to move would probably get intimidating pretty fast.

"It's late," he said.

Kerry checked her watch. It was. She always had an idea of what time the sun rose. It was one of those things that she figured people started checking once they learnt that vampires existed. The people lucky enough to find out and live, that was. The time of sunset; the time of sunrise. Kerry kept up with those times like some people kept up with the weather; and dawn was closing in fast now. Michel must have found a safe place very close by if he thought he'd get back to it in time.

"Be here when the sun sets," he said, heading for her room door. "And keep your door locked. I'll come back as soon as I can."

She shrugged, but she was watching him closely, looking for a sign that he was playing her. If he was, he was too good at this to show it. He left without saying good bye.

Collapsing into bed gratefully, Kerry pulled the covers up over her head. As a college student she considered it her duty to keep crazy hours, staying awake into the night and sleeping through the mornings. She doubted that she'd enjoy being awake all night and sleeping away afternoons as well as mornings though. Michel probably wouldn't care if she slept while he was there but she thought that he'd find a way to use it against her.

Eve prodded her awake some time later that day. "This is ridiculous," she said. "It's two in the afternoon."

Rolling over, Kerry eyed her sleepily from half-under her pillow. "There had better be a good reason for this sudden and rude awakening," she said. Instead of her voice sounding menacing as she had intended, it came out rusty.

"Well, aren't you just a bundle of sunshine? I thought you'd be happy and after-glowy after having had that gloriously hot man in here last night; but you're mostly just grumpy."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the palm of her hand, Kerry sat up. "It's not like that," she said. She'd seen the gleam in Eve's eyes when she'd looked at Michel though and, if nothing else, she was going to keep her friend away from vampires.

"Oh," said Eve, mouth turning down in sympathy. "Well, no wonder you're grumpy."

That was so far away from the mark that Kerry laughed. "How did the exam go?" Somewhere along the way she had become like Michel; too good at using words and gestures to manipulate people and situations. She asked the question too quickly, with more interest than she should have shown and, as she had intended, Eve's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Aha," she said. "There is more to the story than you're letting on. What is it?" She sat on Kerry's bed and snuggled in, smiling in anticipation.

Kerry laughed again and kicked at her. "Nothing, nothing. There's nothing!"

Eve smiled wickedly. "So I can have him then?"

With a gasp of feigned outrage, Kerry whacked her friend around the head with a pillow, mussing up her freshly straightened hair. "Over my dead body!"

"Ooh, it's like that is it?" asked Eve, teasing and understanding all at once. She shrugged her shoulders. "If it helps, he seemed pretty oblivious to anything around you so I doubt I would have gotten far."

"Agh," said Kerry, but she relaxed because after that conversation there was no way Eve would think about Michel even if he tried something with her.

"Are you getting up?" asked Eve. "Because Sarah's cooking buttered popcorn and we're going to watch Star Trek."

"Voyager?" asked Kerry.

"Deep Space Nine."

Folding her arms across her chest, Kerry pouted at Eve, who was far too used to this sort of behaviour to relent. The buttered popcorn was the decider finally; and the girls settled into battered old couches to start the second season soon after.

Had they watched Voyager, Kerry might have been able to lull herself into a happy medium between being entertained and being complacent. With Deep Space Nine, however, her thoughts went over the night with Michel as she licked butter off her fingers.

The fact that he was evidently staying within a five or ten minute drive or walk made her think that this whole thing was some sort of elaborate prank. The idea that he could get a house or apartment so close by but he didn't have time to put together a clothes hamper for the Laundromat or take a book for the night ahead, didn't match up.

On some primal, instinctual level, she had always known that he would come back. With or without an excuse. It was why she'd moved so far away to go to college. The distance hadn't been meant to deter him, and she hadn't thought that it would. Moving so far from her home had been to protect her family when he came back; not to protect herself. She never wanted him in the same room as Ian. Maybe vampires didn't hurt children, but her baby brother was growing so fast.

By the time they gave up on old TV shows the evening was beginning to darken the skies, and Kerry was convinced that all of this was just another vampire game. She didn't know why he was playing it and didn't much care.

"I'm going to head out for a bit," she told her friends. "Teddy's coming over later so tell him I went for a walk if he gets here before I get home."

"There's hard to get and then there's rude," said Eve dryly, reclining into the myriad of multi-colourer cushions on the couch, mouth twisting wryly.

Smiling at her, Kerry lifted a nonchalant shoulder. "There's also sending a message for old times' sake," she said. "Pretty sure he'll get it."

Because she was still in her PJs, she changed into jeans and a thin shirt, pulling her shoes on in the lift and tying her hair back as she headed down the street towards the park. She had climbed the hill in the middle of it and was leaning against the beech tree there; looking down at the city twinkling into life, when he found her.

It wasn't the easy, surface-friendly meeting of the day before with all barbs tucked neatly into pleasant words. In some ways Michel coming up around her, swift and silent as a ghost, and jabbing her clavicle so that she fell back against the tree felt better. More real; more them.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he snapped, which was back to the not being them, because he shouldn't have cared if she was.

"Uhm…no," said Kerry, rubbing the junction of her throat and chest. "I'm trying to have my usual nightly wander. Peaceful-like." She kept her voice steady, but her heart was pounding faster.

He let out a sound that might have been part snarl and Kerry clenched her fists, making sure the tree was still behind her so that she was covered from one side at least. She didn't think he'd hurt her, but she didn't want him catching her off-guard either. "What part of 'Someone is trying to kill you' doesn't make sense to you?"

She smiled sharply at that, letting her irritation show. "Michel, really."

The look he gave her cut even in the darkness. "Michel really, what?" he asked, voice all hard angles and dark corners that she did not trust.

Propping her hands on her hips, she glared at him. "Someone's trying to kill me after three years?" With a toss of her head, she laughed. "Come on! I mean, I get it. You're a vampire. You live for like ever. You must get bored and this was a fun game the last time so why shouldn't it work again?"

Michel stared at her, frustration etched into every line of his body. "Kerry…"

"No! Three years, Michel," said Kerry, shaking her head as she inched around him. "I hate to sound like my old grannie, but it's done and dusted. I have a whole new life in a whole new state. I haven't said anything to anyone…"

Hand darting out and closing around her wrist, he jerked her back so that she slammed into his chest. "It isn't about how much time has gone by! And this isn't about a game. Three years may seem a long time in your shallow little lives but it is nothing to us. One breath, one sigh. And you may jump states to get away from your past; we jump countries! So stop acting as though you know vampire politics better than I do. The heat has died down and someone is after you."

Pulling her hand out of his grasp, Kerry stepped back and folded her arms across her chest, frowning at him. In the past when she'd called Michel out on his lies, he'd admitted them. "So what? I'm just meant to believe you?" Unfolding her arms, she flicked her fringe out of her eyes. "You want me to trust you?"

"I doubt that's an option for us," said Michel, sounding disgusted at the prospect of trust.

"Good, because honestly I don't even know why you'd show up to protect me. If someone wants to kill me, why get involved? Why not leave me die?"

Michel gave her a disappointed look, shaking his head at her. "Do you really consider me to be so devoid of honour?"

Kerry raised her head and looked at him. "A thousand times yes." When he held her gaze without responding, she tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "There's something that you're not telling me."

"Always," agreed Michel, tone dry at the idea that she could even think otherwise. He shrugged his shoulders, looking bored. "Consider who you are talking to. What reason could I have for wanting you alive?"

Self-preservation was Michel's ultimate goal. It trumped everything else life had to offer. Kerry couldn't quite supress a shiver that juddered along the length of her spine. "You think that this guy is going to torture me to get information about you. You're here to protect yourself; not me."

Michel smiled as though he was relieved that she was smart enough to figure that out at least. They were in a darkened park, well away from the footpaths, with no one else around. Morning was still far enough away that Michel would have time to hide a body and get back to safety before it dawned. Even so, Kerry tilted her head back. "So why don't you kill me instead? Why protect what could turn out to be a liability?"

"Because it's you," said Michel sharply. "I've let people die before but not you."

Licking her lips nervously, Kerry studied him. His eyes were dark and he looked cornered; and he was lying. She was re-learning to read him; adding the experiences of her past few years to the task. He was better at keeping eye-contact when he was lying, like he'd forced himself until it gave him away as well as refusing to make eye-contact could. She scuffed her sneaker into the grass, considering the conversation. If she was a possible liability for Michel, she was also a possible asset. She knew what he was and had no intention of telling anyone about him, or of harming him. And her humanity made her capable of walking the daylight. That sort of thing could be valuable if handled well. Those facts only served to make Kerry more doubtful that she was in any danger. If he wanted a way back into her life and he wanted her to do things for him, then making her think he'd saved her was the best way to go about it. "This guy that's after me," she said.

Michel held up a hand. "I'm perfectly capable of handling it if you just do as I ask."

"Yeah. I'm not great at following orders," said Kerry. "But about the guy after me; there is just one of them?"

Michel nodded. "Unless he's called in back-up." The idea didn't seem to be one he'd considered yet and he frowned before shaking his head. "He's probably alone."

"What does he look like?"

"Kerry."

"Well, how am I meant to recognise him?" demanded Kerry, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

"You're not." Michel ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Kerry wondered whether he missed the days when she'd been sixteen and too scared to argue back. "He can't hurt you during the day; and, when the sun goes down, you need to make sure that you're with me."

"That sounds really dull," said Kerry.

"Humour me," replied Michel. "I'm good at survival. I've been doing it a long time."

"Fine," said Kerry. She was back to not knowing whether he was playing her or not, because if he was lying, he would have given her a description of the guy to make it seem more authentic. "But if you get me killed you owe my dad a new car."

The previous night Michel had been caught off-guard by her flippancy, now it merely irritated him. "You think he'd consider that a reasonable exchange, do you?" he asked shortly.

Kerry snorted. "Please. He'll get more use out of a car than he does from me."

That made Michel's eyes darken.

"Stop," said Kerry, almost laughing. "I'm kidding, Michel! Jesus." She smiled at him affectionately. "But not about the car," she said. "He really does need a new one. Something reliable and fuel-efficient."

"You're not going to die." Michel sounded amused and exasperated all at once.

"Ugh," said Kerry, creasing her nose. "Then I'm going to have to save up and buy my dad a new car."


	4. Chapter 4

It was strange strolling with him under the starlit sky. A little too much like a date even if he didn't have any intention of touching her. "I'm going to need to feed tonight," Michel told her as they walked back towards her apartment.

She made a face at him. "Too much information."

Michel didn't glance at her. He hadn't looked at her since they'd left the park and Kerry suspected that he was trying to make her feel as though she didn't matter. "I liked you better when you were sixteen."

"I'll take that as a sign that I improve with age," said Kerry. It was easier than she expected, settling back into this; enjoying his company, even though she pretended she didn't. It was almost their thing; feigning less emotion than they felt, but it worked.

"You haven't eaten either," said Michel, stating a fact rather than asking a question. Kerry wondered whether he knew how irritating that sort of thing was. It was probably why he did it. "I'll be able to feed at a restaurant. You can eat at the same time."

There was probably no way to say this without offending his delicate sensibilities, so Kerry just came right out and said it. "No money."

He did cast a disdainful sidewards glance at her. "I have plenty."

Kerry shook her head emphatically. "That's not how this is going to work."

"If this is a pride thing…" Michel drawled.

"Yes," said Kerry.

"Well, get over it. I'm not going to live like a pauper because you have dependency issues."

"Maybe I wasn't clear," said Kerry. "You can spend your money on anything in the world that you want. So long as it's not me." She flashed him a grin and tucked her hands into her pockets. "A bar," she suggested. "I'll buy a coke or something."

He narrowed his eyes at her before shrugging. "That works better, actually."

Kerry shrugged. "So long as drunk people aren't nutritiously deficient." She didn't expect him to reply. It went against his nature to give away any of the secrets of his species so she walked on without looking at him.

Routine was not a term that could describe either of them. Michel was too cautious to make habits of his actions; Kerry was naturally spontaneous and had trained herself to accentuate that particular trait. But by the time Saturday arrived, Kerry and Michel had a system. She'd make sure she was somewhere safe before sunset and he would show up soon after. They varied the safe place; Kerry picking places out of her old baseball cap or Michel tossing darts at Kerry's corkboard to see which student voucher they landed on. His aim was near impeccable so when it was his turn to choose they went somewhere that he approved of even if he tried to feign that it was chance.

Even if they met in her apartment after sunset, they almost never stayed there. Michel needed blood and Kerry didn't think he liked her run-down home. Her energy wasn't as limitless as his though and by the end of the night they were almost inevitably back in her apartment with her abandoning Michel for sleep. All of her café shifts that week fell during the day and classes for college were out during exam week, so she hadn't needed to take Michel to work or class thus far.

Saturday night was probably going to be a game-changer for them. Kerry had managed to keep her plans from Michel, suspecting that he'd try to alter them if he knew of them. He figured out what was going on pretty quickly when he arrived at the apartment just after dark to find Eve and Kerry throwing clothes around the lounge-room in a bid to find something to wear while Sarah edited the playlists on Kerry's laptop to suit her tastes.

Catching a sparkly, black top mid-air, he raised an eyebrow at Kerry. "Door was open."

"It's Saturday night," said Eve, as though that explained everything.

"Door is always open on Saturday night," Sarah explained when Michel frowned at Kerry. "Clubbing night. Half our friends get ready here."

Kerry didn't bother glancing across at him, holding a yellow bandage dress against herself and tilting her head at her reflection in the full-length mirror that was mounted on the back of Eve's bedroom door. "You're early." Not that he was. When he wasn't sleeping he was with Kerry, but she figured that it was better to give her friends the impression that they alternated their meeting times rather than deal with questions later.

"You are too white to pull that colour off," Eve told her before Michel could object to clubbing night.

She was right. Yellow gave Kerry's complexion a sickly mustard tint rather than its usual pale pink glow. With a sigh, Kerry tossed the dress over her shoulder and caught up a tight grey top.

"Mind if I talk to you?" Michel asked. His tone was silky and Kerry creased her nose, not wanting to fight about this.

Crushing the shirt into a ball she pegged it at Sarah's head and led Michel to her room.

He shut the door behind himself and leant against it, running his gaze over Kerry when she turned and lifted her chin to stare him down. "There's no way to keep you safe if you go clubbing," he said, calm and reasonable.

Kerry had been expecting him to be angry and to tell her how stupid she was being. He must have realised that that tactic would only make her more determined to go. "We're going," she said.

Michel took a slow breath, studying her. Probably trying to find a chink in her armour; a weakness that he could pry at until she fell apart and agreed to whatever he wanted.

She held her ground, letting her gaze rove across him; mapping planes and hollows. People got used to beauty; but she doubted that she'd ever get used to him. He wouldn't let her. She could never find her balance with him; he twisted his personality around her, constantly keeping her unsure of him. Sometimes she felt that he could work her like a piece of clay; crushing her into whatever shape he wanted. Around him, she was never sure if she was bending to her own will or to his.

"Kerry," he said, his accent trickling into his voice so that the pronunciation of the r's was in throaty, liquid French rather than English. Kerry tried not to shiver. "You can't consider it worth the risk."

"I do," she said. He didn't understand how unlike him she was. As valuable as her life was to her, she would never trade her freedom for it. Saturday nights were tradition. She could physically live without them but she would not allow herself to hide because some vampire might have been threatening her. She still wasn't sure he existed.

Michel studied her once more, eyes narrowed in consideration. He nodded once finally. "With stipulations," he said. This time his voice was firm, brooking no argument.

"What stipulations?" asked Kerry.

Michel rocked back on his heels, scratching his jaw with the back of his thumbnail. Kerry wondered whether he was trying to figure how far he could push the stipulations, or whether he was trying to figure out just how stupid she was and what stipulations might be needed to counter-act her recklessness. She didn't help him out; keeping her stance and expression just the same.

"No drinking," said Michel, probably starting out broad with the intention of narrowing things down.

Kerry lifted a shoulder and let it fall. She never drank. Not when she knew vampires lived in the world feeding off oblivious college kids.

"Jeans," said Michel, his gaze snagging on her bare legs.

"Whoa, buddy. I draw the line at you telling me what to wear. Also, what to do and who to speak to."

"If you fall in jeans you won't skin your knees," said Michel as though it was a perfectly valid argument.

Kerry laughed at him. "We humans are fragile, but not that fragile," she said. "I can run with skinned knees. And I don't fall." She smoothed the front of her mini-skirt down.

A crease appeared between Michel's eyebrows. He really wasn't used to being thwarted. Kerry wished that they had some neutral ground that they could work with, but his trust issues had pretty much shattered any faith she might have been able to place in him. Giving in wasn't her style; even negotiation came hard to her when he was around. He was too good at getting the upper hand. "Are you so vain that you would place looks above safety?"

Pretty much any delusions of negotiation dissolved at that. Kerry laughed shortly, shaking her head with incredulity. "Really? You went there?"

Michel shifted languidly, mouth curling into the glimmer of a smirk.

Kerry shrugged at him. "Go on," she said. "Take another stab. You're dying to."

"Dying is not on my agenda," said Michel. "What's the saying? Been there, done that?"

"Cute. Want to hear another saying? It's about hell and fury and women scorned."

Nudging him aside, Kerry opened the bedroom door. He caught her arm before she left the room, leaning in close. "You come home with me tonight," he said, voice low. "Well before dawn."

"Michel," said Kerry. "That is a given." Then she shrugged his hand off and walked back into the lounge-room. ""I'm borrowing your stuff, Eve," she called, not pausing as she continued on to Eve's room.

"I've got a sequined mini-skirt!" Eve exclaimed, emerging from a pile of clothes at the other side of the couch with a glittering lime-green scrap of material.

"Ew, no," said Kerry.

"It shimmies," Eve pointed out, shaking the offending garment.

"I'm in your room. I can't hear your disgusting mouth words!" Kerry yelled, slamming Eve's door shut behind her.

When she emerged, Eve was wearing the skirt and shimmying her hips to Shakira.

Kerry glanced across the room. Michel was still leaning in her doorway, watching Eve with speculative interest. "We will never speak of this," she told him, almost yelling over the music.

He laughed at that and Kerry could see a glimmer of what it was she'd fallen for last time. The bits of him that were real. Though, if she was to be fair, even the lies were a real part of him now. She wondered what he had been like as a human. Perhaps he'd been a liar even then, and becoming a vampire had just made the habit more pronounced.

The apartment door opened and some of Sarah's friends walked in, holding up bottles of various alcohols to show what they'd scored. They made a face at the song playing and went across to Sarah to rectify the situation.

"It's not my fault," she was saying. "Eve wanted Shakira."

Hips Don't Lie was probably one of the most mind-blowingly awful songs the decade had had the misfortune to produce but it did make Kerry want to dance. It was a relief when Nathan switched to a different playlist.

She collapsed onto the couch with the stack of shoe boxes that she'd liberated from Eve's room and began going through them. "Eh?" she asked finally, holding up a box for her house-mates' opinions.

"Perfect," said Eve.

"You will die," said Sarah.

"I've never seen you in heels," said Jessica.

Both Eve and Sarah shot meaningful glances across at Michel, evidently assuming that he was the reason for the change in fashion. They were so right, and also so wrong.

Kerry slipped her foot into the configuration of spiky eight inch heels, straps and buckles. She wasn't even sure what went where, but they had looked the most dangerous and she always over-reacted.

"Hn," she said happily, turning her foot to the side to study the effect. Sarah was right. If she wore these, she would die.

"You're embarrassing yourself," said Eve. "Here." She came around the couch and sat at Kerry's feet, pulling the straps into place and buckling them tight. Kerry felt a little like a horse being shod. The process was probably as strenuous.

As Eve started on the second heel, Michel lowered himself into the sofa beside Kerry. The cushions dipped, sending her into his shoulder. He merely shrugged backwards so that she was leaning against his ribcage.

"No," he said, so softly that she doubted that Eve heard.

She smiled at him.

He glanced at the shoes once more before frowning. "This is because I called you vain."

"Mm-hmm," agreed Kerry, and she could be smug too when the situation called for it. "Call me names, and I'll live up to them."

He bit into his lower lip. "Lesson learned. So stop."

She smiled again, but didn't take the heels off until she had tottered around the lounge in them a few times. "Torture devices," she told Michel, collapsing on the couch by him once more. "They feel like the fires of a thousand hells."

Eve and Sarah never headed to the clubs until after nine so Kerry and Michel retreated to her room when the others started drinking and lay on the bed. Kerry painted her nails and wiped them off before redoing them with different colours and Michel picked up another book. She had found a claret mini dress to wear and had swapped Eve's heels for ballerina flats, which had placated Michel somewhat but he still disapproved of the dress.

"Something will chase you. You'll fall over, you'll skin your knees, and then you will die," he predicted darkly, turning the page of his book.

"If that does happen," said Kerry. "I hope you'll take comfort from the fact that in the end you were right, and I was wrong." She noted though, that he had said 'something' rather than saying the vampire's name. Perhaps he didn't want to give her a name and it had been intentional.

Michel laughed softly. "I will take great comfort from that," he agreed, ruffling his free hand through her hair. Kerry might have thought that the gesture was meant to appeal to her emotions, but it was a little too rough, as though he wasn't entirely sure of himself.

She stretched, acknowledging that she needed to stop reading so much in to everything. Michel would manipulate her in any way that he was able. Any affection he showed would be geared towards making her do what he wanted. She couldn't let herself think that affection might actually be affection, even if she doubted that he'd try to hurt her.

It was late when they reached Sin Grotto; Michel raised his eyebrows to show that he was not at all impressed with the name of Eve's favorite club ever. Kerry shoved him laughingly, "The music's good, and the dance-floor's big."

"Really," said Michel. That could have meant a lot of different things, but Kerry thought that it probably meant that he didn't care and that he was judging her for willingly setting foot in this questionable establishment.

Eve knew the guy on the door so they went in straight away.

"They're very accommodating," said Michel, but Kerry could tell that he'd read the situation correctly by the dryness in his tone and the speculative way that he was studying Eve. She was by far the most gorgeous out of the three flat-mates and, despite the abundance of gorgeous girls frequenting Sin Grotto, Eve was the one that guys fell over themselves trying to meet. Security was no exception. They always let her through.

Before Kerry could reply, Sarah grabbed her arm and dragged her out to the dance-floor. Eve was there already, in their usual spot on the platform near the bar, their group churning around them in an array of bright colours. They looked like a kaleidoscope; the fabrics of their clothes swishing together and coming apart as they danced. Closing her eyes, Kerry let the music wash over her. Then she began to move.

Her hair was sticking to her makeup and her heart was pounding when she saw Eve look past her, her eyes darkening. Panting and half-laughing, Kerry tilted her head in question. "What?"

"Don't look now," said Sarah. "But a guy just came in that would give your Teddy a pretty mean run for his money."

Kerry frowned and turned. She saw who Sarah was talking about straight away. The guy was hot; silvery-blond hair and eyes so light blue that they looked like metal. He had wider-set shoulders than Michel; was just generally bigger. He was heading for their group. Kerry shot a knowing grin over her shoulder at Eve before getting back to dancing. The boys always headed straight to Eve, like clumsy moths to an incandescent flame.

A new song had just started when someone tapped Kerry on the shoulder. She turned, half-expecting Michel. The blond was looking down at her; even more stunningly gorgeous up close.

"Uhm…" said Kerry, thrown completely off-guard. This wasn't how things were meant to go. Gorgeous guys, average guys and below average guys were all meant to apply to Eve for attention. Kerry was meant to be left to dance in safe obscurity with Sarah and her other friends.

He smiled, casual interest and charm rolling off him in gentle waves. And suddenly Kerry knew exactly what was going on. She smiled back at him, warmth pouring off her in response to his proximity as her heartbeat picked up its pace. "Dance with me," he offered, less of a question than a statement.

Shaking her head, she laughed. She was pretty good with nerves, but right now she was hyper-aware that both Eve and Sarah were less than a meter away and could hear everything. Her palms felt clammy and if she didn't calm down she was going to have trouble breathing. "I am nowhere near that easy. You are going to buy me a drink. With lots of alcohol."

The left corner of his mouth twitched upwards in amusement. "And after that you'll be easy?"

Kerry creased her nose. "Doubtful. After that I'll mostly be drunk." She glanced over her shoulder at Sarah and winked. "If you see Teddy, let him know I'm at the bar?"

She laughed and shrugged and the blond took Kerry's arm, leading her away.


	5. Chapter 5

The hand on her elbow was unnaturally cold. Kerry had gotten used to Michel's coldness; thought of it as one of his genetic quirks. She didn't mind it on him, but on this new vampire it felt wrong. Her mind flicked through all of the very few vampire secrets Michel had given away. This was nothing new. After her previous vampire experience, she had drummed everything Michel had let slip into her memory. Every time she was out after dark she went through the list in her mind. Damage the body enough and a vampire could not recover, expose it to sunlight, stay with big groups of people.

The bar was full, and for now that would be enough. Kerry was not going to let this vampire get anywhere near her friends. If he couldn't lure her outside, he might figure that Eve or Sarah would be good enough.

He tried to steer her to a quiet corner of the bar, but Kerry snagged a bar-stool that overlooked the club. It wouldn't have taken them more than a minute to get to the bar, but she was surprised that Michel hadn't stepped in yet. She doubted that he'd trust her enough to run the risk of her actually leaving Sin Grotto with the blond. He knew that she didn't entirely believe that a vampire was after her, and most girls would go anywhere with a guy that looked like this one. It occurred to her that the vampire might not have been working alone after all.

If there were two of them, one would have been providing a distraction for Michel while the other worked on getting Kerry away from the club. There was the possibility that Michel had even left Sin Grotto, if that was the case. He knew that Kerry would stay with her friends, so if he'd seen another vampire he probably would have followed it.

"I'm Ree," she said, turning to smile brightly at the vampire. A name that wouldn't make him think was derived from Kerry, but if one of her friends let her name slip he wouldn't be suspicious. Her flirting skills were sadly lacking but she angled herself towards him, letting her gaze skim across him. Slipping her hand casually into her bag, she searched for her phone with her fingertips. This vampire didn't have the same knack as Michel did for making her think that the sun and stars had nothing on her. But then, Michel had gotten her when she was young and naive and in some ways maybe he'd always be able to manipulate her emotions.

The vampire smiled and reached out to touch her jaw-line. The pressure was gentle, but Kerry was well aware that he could crush her throat with significantly little effort. "Lucas," he said.

Kerry's hand found her phone in her bag. She had had the forethought to put Michel's number in before they headed out and, in theory, if she pressed the call button he would answer and hear the conversation. The function keys on her phone were set to silent, but Kerry wasn't sure whether Lucas would hear the dial tone and realise it was coming from her bag. There was so much outside noise that in the end she took the chance and pressed call.

Flicking her head to the side, she gave the vampire a simperingly bright smile. "Do you come here often?"

The question evidently bored her companion. He leant back against the bar and looked around, brows drawn together in concentration. Probably trying to think of a way to lure her out of the bar that wouldn't set off too many alarm bells in her head. If she'd been drinking, he would have been able to scent it on her and he probably would have just asked; expecting her lowered defences to accept. Though it seemed abnormal for a vampire not to have a plan.

Lucas checked his watch. He must have been worried that whatever distraction he'd set up for Michel was running out. It was hopeful. Kerry wasn't in any danger, so all she had to do was wait and hope that she could stall the vampire until Michel got back. He seemed pretty certain that he'd be able to take the vampire down, even if Lucas was a good deal bigger than him.

"So Lucas," she said easily, hoping that Michel had answered his phone. "Vampire or werewolf?"

Lucas turned his head to stare at her, the blue of his eyes glinting in the low light.

Kerry reached for a straw and twirled it between her fingers. "I'd rather be a werewolf personally," she said. "But I'd peg you as a vampire man. They're meant to be gorgeous; vampires."

"Odd conversation starter," said the vampire. By his surprise it was evident that he hadn't considered that she might know anything about vampires. Kerry wondered what he thought her relationship with Michel was based on if not her knowledge of his secret. It probably wasn't smart to play games with a vampire who wanted to destroy her in the hopes of finding more out about Michel but Kerry tended to throw caution to the wind when her curiosity was involved. If there was a way to drag Michel's secrets from Lucas then all bets were off. Kerry didn't care if Michel was listening on the other end of the phone line either.

She shrugged. "I could ask about the important things, but men tend to get offended."

"The important things," Lucas echoed. His attention was on her now, in a way that it hadn't been before.

Leaning back on her barstool, Kerry slanted a sharp grin his way. "How much do you earn? What car do you drive? Are you good in bed? You know the important things in life."

He laughed then, voice low and husky. It was a surprisingly nice laugh that Kerry disapproved of whole-heartedly. Much easier not to think of this guy – vampire – as having any redeeming qualities. He was going to have to die; and Kerry didn't want to think of him as a human being. She didn't care if it was cowardly to think of him as a monster and kill him before he showed better qualities. Life was bad enough without taking on added guilt.

Lucas checked his watch again. It made Kerry uncomfortable. He didn't seem to be trying to lure her away from the club so she thought that maybe he had another game plan. Michel wasn't back yet, and she was sure that he would have answered his phone and heard enough to know that she was with Lucas. "I thought I recognised one of the friends you came in with," he said finally, tone cautious as though he wasn't sure about his footing in this conversation. "The guy with dark hair."

"Teddy," said Kerry, realising that he was curious about Michel too. It fit with the theory that he'd want her alive. She wondered at herself a little; that she didn't even shudder at the realisation. Her mouth didn't go dry with terror, she didn't feel physically ill. It wasn't because she was so amazingly brave either. The idea of torture would horrify her later. Right now she was in the middle of a vampire game. She'd learned to play with the best and had kept it up, lying to friends, family, strangers until it felt as natural as the breaths she drew. Michel would be so smug if he knew how he'd changed her.

The quick glance Lucas shot at the ceiling wasn't lost on Kerry. She followed his gaze and her spine turned to ice. Now she knew what the plan was. And she had no idea how to survive it. Her brain hiccupped over the knowledge before she forced herself to relax. Michel would be on his way back from wherever he'd been led. If she bought herself enough time, Michel would find her.

Turning away from the vampire while she gathered her scattered thoughts, Kerry tapped the bar for the barman. He moved across to her and she asked for a tequila shot. He poured her one and she motioned for him to leave the bottle before pushing the shot across to Lucas. When he tried to protest, she waved the objection aside. "What's the saying? Bros before hos?"

"You're out of context," Lucas told her, giving in and taking the shot with good grace.

"Context is over-rated," said Kerry, leaning backwards to borrow a cigarette and lighter from the person beside her. It was amazing what a girl in too much make-up could get away with in a club if they smiled.

"You're nervous," said Lucas, sounding suspicious and watching her closely as he lowered his shot glass.

"Agitated," Kerry corrected him, fumbling with the lighter. It could have been part of the act. Sometimes she wasn't even sure. She swore when her fingers crumpled the cigarette and tucked the lighter into her palm to smooth it out. "I was trying not to think about Teddy," she said.

That snagged Lucas' interest again. "What… Is he..?"

Whatever question he might have eventually settled on was lost in the rising peal of the fire alarm and the sudden spray from the sprinkler system.

It was what both she and Lucas had been waiting for. His glance at the ceiling, a little too long to be reflex had made her realise that he was watching the sprinklers. She could think of only one reason that they would interest him. She held her left hand out, palm up, laughing in feigned disbelief as the water cascaded down on her, plastering her hair to her face and no doubt making her make-up leak. Lucas stood, his arms coming around her as the other clubbers began rushing for the doors. Buffering her against the crush of bodies. Kerry leant into him. If she protested or tried to push him away he'd just crush her into compliance. No one would notice.

"This way," he said as the crowd began to thin. He didn't pull her towards the main doors, but towards the back of the club, the staff entrance. "I had a friend in a public building fire," he said, talking fast, as though he was nervous. He wasn't as good a liar as Michel. The nervous came off sounding more like impatience. He thought that she trusted him, that she'd believe him because it was him. Michel didn't make mistakes like that. "The main exit was so blocked up with people he would have died if he hadn't used the back doors."

Kerry couldn't smell smoke. She doubted that there was a fire. Someone had tricked the sensors into thinking there was one though if the sprinklers were going. If it was just a tripped alarm, they wouldn't be.

"Where do the back doors lead?" Kerry choked out, stumbling along after Lucas. She knew that they opened onto an alley but if Michel was listening he'd need to know where to find her.

"Does it matter?" Lucas would probably keep her compliant as long as he could. If she was with him willingly he didn't have to worry about anyone else seeing them. Sarah and Eve would be looking for her. Kerry hoped that they didn't find her. Vampires were not the type to be tolerant of unwelcome distractions.

They reached the staff kitchen, now slowly flooding, and Kerry stopped. Lucas had been so sure of her co-operation that she slipped out of his grasp easily. The door to the alley was only ten metres further and Kerry was sure that a car would already be waiting there for her. The thought made her shiver.

Lucas turned, eyes glinting in a way that human eyes did not, as though they were lit from within. He wasn't pretending to be human now, or to be kind. He moved toward her like a wolf closing in on its prey.

"My friends," said Kerry, backing away but refusing to run.

He reached out to grab her. "They'll be fine."

She ducked away from his hand, moving towards him into the circle of his arms fast as she swung the bottle of tequila up, smashing it against his ribcage. The contents sloshed against him, soaking into his shirt. His torso hadn't gotten too wet in the sprinklers because he'd been hunched forward over her. Even so, Kerry was already following through, flicking the lighter open against the alcohol.

It took. Kerry had to flick the lighter on twice but she was fast and the flames made the vampire stumble backwards with a hiss of pain. Not enough to kill. With the sprinklers going it wasn't even enough to hurt him much. It bought Kerry a fraction of time though. She shoved past the vampire, grabbing a steak knife off the kitchenette bench as she reached it.

When she spun back around Lucas was straightening, shrugging his ruined shirt off broad shoulders. Even if he hadn't been a vampire, the knife was far too flimsy a weapon. She tested the blade with her thumb, wincing when it nicked the skin. Sharp enough to kill; she just didn't have the height or strength for it.

Plan B it was then.

The vampire studied her, mouth quirking upwards in amusement. "What do you think you'll achieve with that little knife?" he asked.

Kerry spun it in her hands and then held it to her throat. "I'll admit that dying on a knife that still contains traces of peanut butter is less sophisticated than I might have hoped but, if you come closer, that is the unfortunate way that I will go." She thought that she was still lying, but it occurred to her that she might not have been. There would be benefits to death before torture. Her family would have her body at least, while they would probably never find her if she went with Lucas.

"Michel told you what he was," said Lucas. He sounded shocked.

"Who?" Lying to the last. Trying to protect Michel even if she had no idea what she was protecting him from. Would it have mattered if he'd told her he was a vampire?

"Teddy." Lucas was impatient now. But he wasn't moving toward her. Whatever information they thought she had on Michel, they must have really wanted it. Lucas would try to take her alive. That meant she still had a chance.

"Teddy's a lying scumbag," said Kerry. "But he did say that he thought he'd seen someone following me, which just sounded stupid until you showed up tonight. God damn it, it still sounds stupid. Why are you following me?"

"How did you know that I was?"

Kerry stared at him. "You didn't even look at Eve," she said.

"Maybe she isn't my type," said Lucas, looking bewildered by her reasoning.

"Then I would have to assume that you were gay," said Kerry dryly. She didn't even see Lucas move. Instead of trying to get to her and wrest the knife away before she could use it, he hurled a bottle at her upper shins so hard that it took her legs out from under her. She lurched forward, flinging her hands out to break her fall. Only when the knife skittered onto the damp carpet did she realise her mistake.

Lucas' boots came into view and she rolled away from him. He kicked the knife across the room before she could reach it. Trapped between him and the kitchen bench, Kerry realised that she hadn't gotten around to a Plan C, and the best that she could come up with on the spot was to kick and scream.

She pushed herself back into the bench and, when she didn't feel his hands grabbing at her, opened her eyes.

Michel was studying her, his eyes cold and very vampire. He let go of Lucas and the bigger vampire's body slumped heavily to the floor. Kerry tried to think of something clever to say, failed and gave up. There was a spray of blood across the wall beside her and she wondered whether Michel had intentionally turned the vampire away from her to slit his throat, or whether it had been luck that she wasn't now soaked in blood.

Even as she watched, the sprinklers swept the blood away. It might be noticed later, or they might get lucky.

"Your knees are skinned," said Michel, sounding as though he may never forgive her for it.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a car waiting in the alley. Blue. Kerry wondered whether all vampires had this thing for blue cars. If so their logic was flawed; she always noticed blue cars.

Michel dumped the vampire's body through the unlocked door into the backseat. A set of handcuffs was attached to the inside of the door by one bracelet, the other dangling free. Anyone else would have tried to spare her the knowledge of how thoroughly this kidnapping had been planned, but not Michel. He made sure she saw the cuffs. Kerry clamped her lips shut around any sound that might try to escape her. She would not show weakness around him. It was what he was waiting for. He slammed the car door, the sound echoing through the alley and making her jump.

"You don't leave your friends. What were you thinking?"

"I thought you had my back."

"I thought you had some common sense," Michel retorted.

Kerry swiped her sodden hair back. She was glad that the night was cool and that she was soaked through. It gave her a reason to tremble. "I couldn't have him around my friends," she said. It sounded like an excuse, like she was asking for forgiveness and she could have kicked herself for it.

"Screw your friends! He would have tortured you until you told him everything you knew, then he would have tortured you some more!"

"Yes," said Kerry, making her voice harder. "I couldn't have someone like that around my friends."

"What happened to you?" Michel snapped. "When you were sixteen you were terrified of dying; what made you so ridiculously brave all of a sudden?"

"I didn't want to be like you," said Kerry.

He took a step closer, eyes blazing and she thought for a moment that he was going to hit her. Instead of flinching, she clenched her fists. But he only reached out a hand and tangled it into her hair, tight enough that it twinged. "Stop," he said. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to live."

"No," agreed Kerry. "Unless it's at the cost of your morals and the people around you and your humanity."

She didn't know why she was being like this. It wasn't that she thought that Michel's choices were so very wrong, even though she definitely didn't think that they were right. She felt cornered, as though she was still in danger. Maybe it was shock, or her adrenaline wasn't ready to go back down yet. Whatever it was, she was still up for a fight.

Michel sighed and pushed her away, letting go of her hair. "That wasn't the vampire that's after you," he said, glancing away, down the alley. "He has recruited allies."

"You were chasing the other vampire when Lucas came after me?" asked Kerry.

"Of course." Michel sounded impatient with the fact that she had asked. "What else would I have been doing?"

"Well," said Kerry, wiping her hands off on the skirt of her dress to buy herself time. They were shaking too and she closed her fingers into fists again to still them. "You could have been waiting here to take that vampire out so that I'd believe that I had been in danger."

Michel laughed and then swore. "Yeah," he said finally. "I could do something that devious. The difference is that I didn't." He leant back against the car and frowned at her. "I don't know how to make you trust me." He sounded genuinely aggrieved about it.

"I did trust you once and look where it got me."

"I didn't kill you," said Michel, eyes narrowed in irritation.

Kerry laughed and shook her head. "Because I said I loved you," she said and smiled, teeth glinting sharply in the streetlight. "And you believed me."

"I believed you because you were telling the truth."

"I thought that I was telling the truth," Kerry corrected him. "There's a slight but tangible difference."

Michel didn't argue the point, pushing himself off the car lightly. "If there's a chance your friends will come looking for you, we shouldn't be near here."

Kerry frowned at him before glancing at the car. The windows were tinted, but not so darkly that someone near it wouldn't be able to see inside. "You're just going to leave a vampire body here? I thought you were taking it somewhere."

"Clarence can clean it up. It's his mess."

"Clarence," said Kerry. "Is that old English?"

"Latin," said Michel. He was speaking easily without any indication that revealing the name was a slip up. Kerry wondered whether he had decided to trust her with more or whether he was trying to draw her attention away from something else. "It was a popular name in England and America for a while though." Too much information; he was definitely trying to distract her from something.

Her nerves were too shot to figure him out, but she chewed her lower lip and stared at him, willing her brain to focus.

"Let's get out of here," said Michel, reaching for her. He'd burned through his adrenaline, or whatever vampire equivalent there was and was calmer. Kerry could read it in the ease of the line of his shoulders. He was less skittish too, not moving on the balls of his feet like he was getting ready to attack or defend. He actually looked at her now, as he folded an arm around her shoulders, gaze skimming down her and then back up. Checking to make sure that she wasn't injured or wasn't about to go to pieces on him.

"Can I have your jacket?" she asked.

He shrugged out of it immediately before helping her put it on.

Kerry pushed her hands into the pockets as Michel put his arm back around her shoulders. They walked toward the mouth of the alley. Sarah came around the corner just as they reached it. Her gaze went from Kerry before skimming across Michel. "Jesus Christ, Kerr, where have you been?" she demanded. She already had her phone in her hand and began typing into it. Kerry figured that she was letting Eve know that everything was alright.

"We ended up going out the back," Kerry said. "Are you guys okay? Where's Eve?"

Sarah shook her head, not looking up from her phone. "Everyone's fine. We were looking for you."

Kerry nodded, looking back at the club. She was formulating answers for the questions that Sarah might ask, but she never gave more information than necessary. It was too much like covering tracks that people hadn't noticed yet. Made them suspicious when they hadn't already been so. "How far away is the fire department?"

Sarah lowered the phone and looked up at Kerry. "I don't think there even is a fire. No one's seen any smoke. Someone's pulled an alarm or something."

Kerry pulled Michel's jacket closer around herself. "Well, it makes for an exciting night if nothing else," she said. "Are we heading to another club or is our night ruined?"

Eve walked up behind Sarah and slung an arm around her shoulders. "Our night is beyond ruined! Look at my face." Her makeup had run under the sprinklers; mascara streaking her cheeks, but she was laughing.

It occurred to Kerry that she probably looked the same. She grinned.

"It is far too early to go home," said Michel, stretching casually and moving away from Kerry.

She watched him. His body language was relaxed but it wasn't likely that he would want to stay out longer without a reason to. Not when someone had already tried to take her. It was still taking Kerry longer to process things than it should have, but she realised that Michel was worried about someone following them back to the apartment. "We should get ice-cream," she said.

Eve creased her nose. "Sure. Hit me where I'm weakest, why don't you?"

Sarah usually agreed to things that Kerry and Eve wanted so she didn't protest. Their favourite ice-creamery was only a few blocks away. "I'll get the others," said Sarah.

Kerry glanced across at Michel. He wasn't about to divulge any plans to her with Eve right there though. "Let's go with her," he suggested.

They crossed the street, pushing through the other groups of clubbers, looking for Sarah. As they joined her and their other friends, a familiar blue car pulled out of the alleyway. Kerry glanced at before turning to look at Michel. He hooked her arm and pulled her closer, putting his body between her and the car.

"So long as he doesn't have another accomplice he'll need the rest of the night to dispose of that," he said quietly.

That; the vampire body they had dumped. Kerry wondered whether it was an indication of psychopathy that they were both okay with going out for ice-cream minutes later as though nothing had happened. She'd learnt this lesson the last time though. Guilt was one of those things that could hit a person hard even if they could logically say that they didn't deserve it. And she did not deserve to feel guilt over this. Lucas was the one who had come up to her. He knew that one of them would not survive the encounter; she made sure that it was him.

Psychopathic or not, she was not going to lose sleep over this.


	7. Chapter 7

They went to the ice-creamery with Kerry still huddled into Michel's coat. He was watching her – probably waiting for the night's events to take their toll and for her to unravel like a badly wound ball of string.

She didn't. She talked with her friends; laughed duly. She made sure that she was sarcastically unimpressed by some of her friends' jokes and that sometimes she was distracted. Because she'd studied people. She knew what was normal.

If anyone was going to give the game away it would be Michel with all of his anxiety that she would give the game away.

Sure enough, Eve glanced from Michel to Kerry eventually. "Why do you keep looking at her?"

"Eve!" exclaimed Jessica in scandalised tones.

"What? I mean, she's sort of pretty, but really…"

Kerry laughed in mock outrage and slapped her friend across the back of the head. She was still holding a spoon loaded with strawberry ice-cream, which promptly splattered into Eve's dark hair.

"Gah! You absolute feral!" Eve cried but she was already streaked with make-up so she wasn't that upset. "Sarah, avenge me! Avenge me, Sarah!"

Kerry held her hands up in defeat. "It was an accident!"

The ever pragmatic Sarah merely reached for a handful of napkins and began dabbing at Eve's hair rather than going on a revenge ice-cream slinging spree. "If you didn't want ice-cream in your hair, you shouldn't have been asking awkward questions."

"You do keep looking at her, though," Eve told Michel. "If you just asked her out you wouldn't have to stress about her going off with that other hot guy."

"Uh, yes he would," said Kerry. "I get bored easy."

The corners of Michel's mouth tugged upward in amusement that was a little too predatory for Kerry's liking. As though he was challenging her to get bored of him. Kerry felt the colour in her cheeks spike, and turned away. If she had a hundred years he wouldn't bore her. Annoy her, anger her, drive her crazy, maybe.

Eve shot Kerry a hurt look that meant she'd been trying to help and that Kerry had ruined it all. Had Kerry actually had those sorts of feelings for Michel, she would have hog-tied and gagged Eve by now. The girl had no tact.

Michel excused himself to stretch his legs as the others finished their sundaes.

"Restless guy," Jessica commented, stirring her thickshake.

Kerry thought that it was more likely that he was checking for another unexpected vampire. If she hadn't phoned him, she'd be being tortured by now. He wouldn't likely be so complacent a second time.

The memory of calling him sparked an itch under her skin of something, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. She had the feeling that she was missing something important.

Michel came back in and gave her an almost imperceptible nod that meant that everything was okay. It was such a small gesture that she wasn't sure how she knew what it meant, but she did.

Everyone had finished eating so they piled out of the ice-creamery back onto the street. "I'll walk you home?" Michel said, but he made it a question because Teddy was the kind of person who would ask even if Michel wasn't.

"Yeah, that's something I'm going to pretty much insist on," said Kerry. She was half-laughing and still worried about how everything would look to everyone else when she was so exhausted that she could barely walk a straight line. "I mean, I almost burned to death tonight. I obviously need the protection."

"You didn't burn," Sarah protested. "No one burned. There was no fire."

"The alarms went off and the sprinklers were pouring down. People were running back and forth. I could have been crushed underfoot," Kerry announced.

"I don't think you could…"

"Damn it all, Sarah. Just let me have my hot boy protector," said Kerry, slinging an arm around Michel's shoulders. He must have known that she needed the support because he put an arm around her too, considerably more gently, and lifted.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, tightened her arms around his shoulders and let her eyes close. He was cold, but this was Michel and that stuff didn't matter with them. His cold felt natural to her.

She must have dozed off, because she woke when he lowered her into her bed. Her legs came up, kicking out at him on reflex. He caught the right one before it connected; the left got him in the stomach.

"Kerr," he said, voice low as though he wasn't sure that she was awake. Then his gaze zeroed in on her face. She watched him a moment, the muscles in her back still bunched in preparation - for what, she couldn't say. He sighed and she forced herself to relax into the familiar bedding. "I should have stayed closer to you tonight." His voice was cold and flat as though he wasn't used to admitting to failure and had no intention of getting used to it.

"It doesn't matter," said Kerry.

Michel didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed and she thought that maybe it was the same thing. "That Clarence has recruited others is a drawback, but now that I know of it, I can anticipate his movements. In the future I will be prepared for more unlikely scenarios."

Kerry struggled to sit up. As tired as she was, being flat on her back while trying to talk to Michel was only going to go against her. "I'm not trying to debate that. Look, tonight was fine. You did what you needed to do and when the situation got unpredictable I did what I needed to do. It's not like you're on your own here. We're in this together and I'm damn good at this sort of thing so..." She broke off and shrugged.

Michel's eyes stayed on her face, still narrow and wary but after a moment his shoulders began to relax. "You fell asleep so quickly I thought that you might be in shock."

Yawning, Kerry shook her head. Keeping her eyes open was taking monumental effort. "Just sleepy after that adrenalin surge. My muscles feel like they've been through a dozen rounds in a boxing ring."

Michel nodded as though he understood, though Kerry doubted that he remembered anything about muscle pain. He was studying her as though trying to gauge something.

"I can't stay awake," said Kerry. "I'm trying, but..."

He shook his head. "Don't try. I'll be here tomorrow night."

She closed her eyes and let herself sink into sweet oblivion.

The sun was high when she woke. That was the thing about spending the nights with a vampire; it screwed up the days.

Eve and Sarah were in the kitchen making PB and J sandwiches when Kerry emerged.

"You conked out early," said Sarah. "We played drinking games until three in the morning and you didn't even wake up."

Kerry rubbed her head ruefully. "It was probably all the excitement of having two hot boys after me," she said. "I just couldn't take it."

Eve laughed at her. "He wouldn't play drinking games with us," she said. "Teddy, I mean. He watched you sleep instead."

"Creepy," said Kerry, pulling the cornflakes out of the pantry. She was grateful for the gesture though. Nights were not going to feel safe again until Clarence was dead.

"Yeah, we tried to tell him that was weird but he seemed pretty adamant."

Kerry's sleep-addled brain was taking a while to catch up with the conversation, but it got there eventually. Eve and Sarah had been drinking. A lot. While Michel had been in the apartment. Kerry closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck, trying to process that. She had no idea how to ask if he'd done something to either of them without it sounding weird. Doubted that they'd remember. He might have fed already at the club, but Kerry didn't know. All she knew was that she'd fallen asleep and left her drunk friends with a possibly hungry vampire.

"Did he stay with me all night?" she asked.

Sarah shrugged. "Well, it was still dark when he left but pretty much all night."

Maybe he hadn't fed on anyone then. Or maybe he'd been careful enough about it that Kerry wouldn't find out. She still wasn't entirely sure how far his power of suggestion could go. For all she knew he'd fed on everyone and none of them could remember.


	8. Chapter 8

She ate, though the food tasted like ash. After that all that there was left to do was wait for Michel. As always, he arrived with the night. Eve must have let him in and he found her sitting on her bed.

For a long moment he stood in the doorway and studied her, as though something might have changed in her from the previous night. It shouldn't have. The previous night was almost too similar to the last night Kerry had seen Michel before he had come back. She had been the one hunted this time, but the basics were there. Someone had tried to harm them. And they had died. Kerry could tell that the similarities were not lost on Michel either.

"One vampire, one human. At least we're trying to be equal opportunity," she said.

He laughed. "You are definitely a product of your time. That sort of thing did not matter in mine."

He seemed normal, while she felt as though her emotions had been wrung out and she'd been left hollow and colourless. Maybe killing got easy after a while.

Michel walked into her room then and closed the door behind him. He didn't cross to the bed, but to the window. He sighed at the dismal view of the alleyway behind Kerry's building. "This is so squalid," he said conversationally. "If you lived in gentile poverty it would bother me less."

Kerry ignored his attempt to lead the conversation away from the previous night. "Is there any way to know how old Lucas was?"

Whatever Michel was feeling, his posture betrayed nothing. "His age is not important. If you do what I tell you to I can look after you."

If she'd stayed home the night before, like he'd told her to, she wouldn't have been in danger. "I'm never going to be the kind of girl who does what you tell her," said Kerry. "If that's what you're relying on to save me then give up now, it's not going to happen."

Michel turned away from the window then and looked at Kerry. His eyes were brighter than usual and about as cold as they'd been when he'd killed Lucas. He crossed to her in two steps, caught her knees and swung her around to him. Leaning over her, he caught her chin to force eye contact. She had to kick her legs out and brace them against the floor on either side of him to keep from falling off the bed. "This isn't a game, Kerry," he said, voice as frosted as his eyes. He didn't seem aware that he was between her knees, but then that kind of a thing was probably a regular occurrence to him. Kerry wasn't exactly unfamiliar with the practice either, but this was Michel. It was different.

It was worse. Because she could blush, and he couldn't and that was all kinds of unfair. Except that he probably wouldn't be blushing anyway. And she still had to keep up with him so that he knew that he could never, ever push her around. "Who's playing? I refuse to be a prisoner in my own house…"

"I'm not asking you to do that. You can go out – We can go out. You just need to obey me." He seemed to realise the moment the words were out that it was miles away from the right thing to say.

Kerry tried to jerk her chin out of his hand, but Michel was faster. He leant forward and caught the back of her neck and drew her closer, fingers stroking her throat gently.

"I didn't mean that," he said, voice husky and low, calculated to sooth her. It sort of worked and Kerry hated that. "Not forever. Just until I kill Clarence."

Really, he should have just killed her and gone off to find the kind of girl who would do what he wanted when he wanted it. She was a bit of a dud as far as that kind of stuff went. At sixteen she'd been driving illegally and breaking cute boys out of the clutches of vampire hunters. Then someone had died and she'd mostly been to blame and she had lied to everyone about it for years. Even worse, she had been believed. Compliance wasn't her thing.

Oh, it was more than that. Once Michel knew how to get her to say yes, he'd use it in any way he could. She couldn't afford to give him any insight in how to break her or how to mould her.

"Let me work with you," said Kerry. "Last night proves that you need me. If you'd told me everything you know then maybe I could have gotten some sort of information out of Lucas. I mean, we've worked together before."

Michel gave her a dark look and Kerry remembered that he hadn't told her anything that time either. Had tried to twist her into a weapon while lying to her to keep her compliant.

"Keeping information from me last time almost got you killed," she told him furiously.

Michel gave an infinitesimal shrug. With his hands still holding her near, Kerry felt more than saw it. "I am what I am," he said, remnants of his French accent leaking into the words. Kerry recognised it for what it was; a promise not to change no matter what. He was never going to trust her. It went against his nature.

The girl that Kerry had been would have been hurt by that. Michel had changed her though. Instead of his words hurting her, they resonated. He didn't trust anyone, and neither did she. It was sort of like she belonged, only probably not the same for him because he was a vampire and was therefore surrounded by untrusting creatures of the night.

"Kerr," he said. "Promise me you'll follow my lead. Until the danger's passed at least."

He was looking into her face, not letting her turn away. She shuttered her eyes shut, gave herself a moment to think. The last time he'd known her, she was the kind of girl who kept promises. She let out a shuddering sigh. "You have to tell me. The moment the danger's past. You have to."

He believed her; because he wanted to. And because he was counting on her to feel helpless enough in the face of vampires to align herself with one who would keep her safe.

"I could give you my word," he said, voice lighter now that she was co-operating. She wondered whether he was glad that a vampire had almost taken her the previous night, since it had secured her compliance now. Then she wondered how long he had taken to come back to her. Whether he'd been in the alley, waiting for her to realise that she couldn't handle Lucas on her own before he stepped in. "But you're too smart to believe that."

She was too smart to believe the promise of loyalty in his tone or the sincerity in his eyes as well. "Michel," she said, voice low. "This is serious. When you kill Clarence, you tell me. Right away. If you don't, I will never trust you again."

His brow furrowed and he nodded once. Kerry didn't believe that either but she let her shoulders relax and let out a breath, feigning relief that he was agreeing.

Michel quirked his lips at her, as though he found her amusing and was only being a little condescending about it. "If we were playing against a human opponent again it would be different. You'd have the upper hand there, you know how they think. But I've got vampires," he said. Another lie so that she'd feel like stepping out of danger wasn't giving up so much as it was a clever tactical maneuver.

His hands were still in her hair, fingers stroking the nape of her neck. He was still close to her. She hadn't appreciated just how close while they'd been arguing. The game was over, he thought he'd won. She didn't know why he was still in her space trying – hell, succeeding in throwing her equilibrium off balance.

She tilted her chin up to look at him, eyes narrow with suspicion. His mouth curled into a sharper smile before he kissed her.

It wasn't like the last time. He wasn't worried about her feeling his fangs, was past being sweet. She wasn't like before either. Sweet wasn't something she needed. She was sharp enough herself, clawing Michel closer, toppling him onto the bed. She didn't have to worry about sunburn this time. He flipped her onto her back and rolled on top of her, nipping along her jawline.

Heat flushed across her skin and her heart was skittering like mad. He licked a line up her throat, mapping her frantic pulse and laughing softly into her skin. He swatted her hands away when she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. "Quelle est la précipitation, ma minette?" he asked, reaching a hand up and flicking the first few open himself.

Kerry didn't understand French, but she did understand 'ma'. "I'm not yours," she said, trying to get enough leverage against the bed to roll him over. Even here – especially here – she didn't want him getting too much control.

Ignoring her attempts to dislodge him, he sucked on her pulse and she shivered. "Last time I kissed you, you told me you loved me," he said, tone languid and a little amused. "How are you feeling now?"

Kerry twisted a hand into his hair and pulled herself up to bite his lower lip. "Why are you talking? There are more important things you could be doing with your mouth."

He laughed at her silently, shoulders shaking as he pulled her closer. "You _are_ mine," he told her and there might have been more truth in that than Kerry would have liked but then he was kissing her again and it didn't matter.

Something rang, not a tone that Kerry recognised so she ignored it. Michel did too for a while, but the sound became more insistent and he swore, rolling off the bed to his feet and padding across to the window as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Kerry sat up and watched him as he answered. He sounded as frustrated as she felt, but she didn't kid herself that he was. It was just another sort of lie, him letting her think that she could ever really catch all of his attention. She appreciated the gesture; if he'd liked her less he wouldn't have bothered with a pretence of annoyance.

Sort of weird watching a vampire use a phone so easily. Kerry's dad still had trouble with his cell phone. Her grandmother hadn't bothered to get one. Vampires though, they were something else.

The hair at the back of Kerry's neck prickled unpleasantly as though she should have picked up on something that she wasn't picking up on. She schooled her features to remain impassive, kept her eyes on Michel and thought about it. Damn it. Vampires had phones. They didn't have the luxury of not adapting. Lucas would have had a phone. If Lucas had been sent by someone else, if Clarence had actually existed, Michel would have taken Lucas's phone. And he hadn't.

Kerry stretched her spine. Michel had sent Lucas after her. And then, when Lucas had scared her enough, Michel had killed him. They'd probably been friends, but friendship wouldn't have been as important as having a grateful human on-side.

Kerry stood up, grabbed her bathrobe off the back of her door and went to the bathroom.


	9. Chapter 9

Kerry stayed under the hot spray of shower longer than necessary, working through the facts. The car Michel had dumped the body in had left the alley, which meant that there was at least one other vampire involved in this. Definitely a vampire. Michel was too solitary to have recruited other humans. The only reason he trusted her was that she hadn't let him die when she could have. She'd saved him and then she'd had an entire day to regret the decision and change her mind, and she hadn't.

This other vampire, presumably, wasn't an idiot. He – or she – knew that Michel had killed Lucas; they'd been in on it. Kerry wondered what kind of guarantee this other vampire had against being the next to die, because one other vampire was going to have to die in Clarence's place.

A sharp rap at the door broke into Kerry's thoughts.

"If you're coming out of there sometime tonight, I have a suggestion on what we might do," Michel said. He sounded amused again.

Kerry turned the faucets off.

When she opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, dressed in her bathrobe, Michel smirked down at her. "Need a cold shower after that kiss?"

She tilted her head back to frown at him. "Cold, warm, hot. I wasn't fussed, I just needed to wash."

He laughed and took her towel out of her hands, before using it to dry her hair. "This is why you don't have a boyfriend," he said.

"Because my hair's wet?"

Michel sighed. "You're annoyed that I took that call."

"Am I?"

He lowered the towel, eyes narrowed as though he was trying to read her. She leant her shoulder against the bathroom doorway and looked him up and down. She wasn't actually angry with him. These were the kinds of games that she would expect from him. It was his nature; she had adapted hers to keep up. So she was annoyed, but mostly relieved that she'd figured it out before something bad had happened. Kind of like being upset with a dog for peeing in your shoes, but grateful you'd noticed before you'd pulled them on. Lucas was probably the shoes, and he probably felt a whole lot different about the situation.

"I should do some surveillance on Sin Grotto tonight. I could leave you at that ice cream parlour. If we go now it will be busy enough to keep you safe, so long as you stay inside."

Kerry stared at him.

"Not all night," he assured her. "I'll need maybe half an hour. If Sin Grotto has surveillance tapes it will make finding Clarence so much easier."

She doubted that it was surveillance tapes he was after. More likely he needed to rendezvous with the vampire who had disposed of Lucas' body. Why the phone call hadn't been enough, she didn't know. Too much chance of her listening in?

"I'm not staying at the ice-creamery," she said. "You can take me to Sin Grotto with you."

Now he stared at her. "Are you absolutely insane? There's no way I'm taking you somewhere that they'll be watching so closely." He really was an amazing liar. He sounded genuinely confounded by her stupidity.

"Then I guess neither of us is going," said Kerry. "You don't get to leave my sight at night time."

Michel studied her, eyebrows drawing together and mouth compressing. "You're afraid," he finally said. He sounded as though he thought less of her for it – he also sounded strangely relieved.

Kerry folded her arms across her chest, chin tilting up. "So what if I am?"

His eyes flickered, gaze sweeping over her as though searching for something and not finding it. "You're not afraid," he said evenly. "What's the problem?"

"I'm smart," said Kerry. "If you won't learn from your mistakes, I will. You do not get to leave me behind again." Until she had him pinned she wasn't going to let on what she knew. He'd find some wriggle space unless she had proof that was more solid than him not taking Lucas' phone and him being willing to leave her again even after the last disaster.

He rocked back on his heels and nodded. "We can go to the ice-creamery. If I can't pick up on anything being off around Sin Grotto we can check it out. Otherwise you'll have an ice-cream, we'll stop off at one of my blood-donor's apartments and then we can do whatever you want."

The blood-donor wouldn't be his rendezvous point. It had to be someone around Sin Grotto. The antagonistic part of Kerry refused to let him win on this. She shook her head. "If you desperately need a blood-donor we can do that. If you don't, I'm going to bed and not getting up until you go away."

Michel's eyes narrowed. "Was this because I answered the phone?"

"You know what girls are like, Teddy," said Kerry, padding past him and heading for her room.

He followed and slammed the door after them. "Seriously? She was one of my donors. The one we're going to tonight, actually. Food isn't as easy for me as it is for you, unless you'd like to offer?"

Kerry threw herself on her back on the bed and didn't bother looking at him. "I'm not food," she reminded him.

"You're nothing," Michel told her, snatching his leather jacket off the back of the chair and pulling it on. "You're more trouble than you're worth."

Kerry waved a hand at the door. "No one's asking you to stay."

He was already heading for the exit. "I wouldn't stay if you begged."

She waited until he'd slammed out of the apartment to get up. Sliding into underwear, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, she wondered what his Plan B was. Michel would always have a back-up plan. It would probably be something as blatant as having her attacked again so that she would go back to him for help. The alternative would be to have Eve or Sarah killed in her stead, but surely even Michel wouldn't go that far.

There was nothing sure about it. Kerry was going to have to tail him.

She pulled sneakers on, unlocked and opened the door and headed for the roof. Michel was too careful to give her a chance to shadow him. The only way this would work was if she checked to see which way he headed and took the same direction after giving him a head-start. If he got into a car, she was screwed.

He didn't get into a car. He didn't take any direction either. He was leaning against a lamp-post across the street, reading a battered paperback, and glancing across at Kerry's building occasionally. If he was waiting for her to come out and beg him to come back, he was in for some heavy disappointment.

After half an hour it was clear that he wasn't waiting for her. She doubted that he was waiting for anyone else either. He hadn't checked his phone once, and he looked at the doors to her building every time anyone went past them.

He'd locked the door when he'd left. Kerry could remember having to unlock it when she went after him, but hadn't been paying attention at the time. She paced the roof, chewing her thumb nail. The information didn't make sense when all added together. He was still worried that someone might come into her building while he wasn't there. Worried enough that he was going to risk going two nights without feeding. He had locked her in – or more significantly, locked someone else out. That didn't work with the theory that he was the one making her think she was in danger. But he was too experienced to do something as dumb as leave behind an enemy's phone when it would have information he could use on it.

Kerry swore under her breath. He hadn't left it behind. He just hadn't told her that he'd taken it. God-damn cagey vampire.

She headed back for the stair-well, considering the situation. If he wasn't meeting up with the vampire that was meant to scare her, then why was he so interested in getting back to Sin Grotto? Especially if it meant leaving her at the ice-creamery when he wasn't even willing to leave her locked in her own apartment. Unless he wasn't actually meaning to leave her at the ice-creamery… Kerry jerked to a stop and swore again.

Cell phones had tracking devices now, and there was no way that Lucas would have been carrying a phone without that particular app. Michel wouldn't bring something that could be tracked back to her apartment. He would have hidden it as soon as he could. Not at Sin Grotto; too much possibility of being watched. But he'd left her and her friends in the ice-creamery the night before. Kerry had thought that he was scouting for threats – and he probably had been – but he'd been hiding the phone as well.

It would have been so much easier if Michel would just tell her about this stuff. Not as exciting though.

Kerry took the stairs down to the top floor and caught the elevator from there. Michel was still leaning against the street-lamp when she walked out the main doors. She crossed the road to where he was. "So where does this donor of yours live?" she asked.

He lowered his book and studied her, amusement flicking around the edge of his mouth, as though he'd known that she'd cave in and come after him. She wanted to roll her eyes at him, because he hadn't known anything of the sort. She settled for sliding her thumbs into her back-pockets and giving him a hard stare.

He closed his book, not taking his eyes off her, and pushed it back into the pocket of his jacket. Then he hooked two fingers through one of her belt loops and jerked her forward. His free hand was already curving around the back of her neck, steadying her as he kissed her. Even in the middle of a busy street he could make her forget the world existed, senses focusing in on the feel of his mouth, fangs and fingers.

He pulled away first and the world came rushing back in in a dizzying wave of sound. "Jealousy doesn't suit you," he said, because going for five minutes without infuriating her broke some sacred covenant somewhere.

She didn't deny being jealous, because then she'd have to come up with an excuse as to what had really happened and he might see through it to the truth. "Yeah well, you don't think short hair suits me either, so shows what you know." She flicked the ends of her curls for emphasis and his gaze went to them, hand reaching up. "Where's your donor?" she asked. "Or do you want to stand out here all night?"

He grazed the back of his knuckles along her cheekbone. "I want to take you back to your room," he said, voice not quite steady.

Her stomach twisted in fervent agreement; her mind was not quite so reckless. "You didn't feed last night. I don't know if you should go two nights without eating," she said and could have cursed herself for not controlling her voice. It came out breathless.

He watched her, eyes narrow, as though assessing her. "And if I said that I could handle it?"

Her lungs weren't working properly. Her breaths were coming in short, like she couldn't draw the air past her throat. If he could handle it, why were they still here? Her room was a few dozen steps away. "Can you handle it?" she asked when her breathing evened out.

He studied her. She didn't know what he was looking for. He sighed finally and leant back against the street-lamp, tilting his head up and closing his eyes. "Not with you," he said. Not as though he was talking to her, the words were barely louder than a puff of breath.

She had no idea what he meant. He could handle two nights without feeding if he was with some other person? He just couldn't with her? Did that mean that he thought of her as food more than he did with others? Or maybe she was more of a temptation because she had been so insistent that he didn't feed on her.

Whatever else it meant, though, it didn't mean that they'd be going back to Kerry's room and tangling themselves up in each other any time soon. Kerry sighed. "Let's go find you a donor."


	10. Chapter 10

It was dull; visiting donors. Michel could hardly take Kerry up with him, so he left her in the lobby of one of the upper-end high rise buildings by the river. He didn't say anything to the concierge as he headed for the elevators, but Kerry watched his expression in the mirrored back wall and the look he threw the man was barely an iota shy of violence. The concierge took a startled step back, gaze flying to Kerry in wide-eyed panic.

Kerry relaxed. No one was going to be asking her to leave after that, no matter how informally she was dressed.

The first half hour Michel was gone, she played games on her phone in a feeble attempt to keep from thinking about what he was doing, or who his victim might be. It didn't work, so for the next hour she paced the lounge area of the lobby.

"These carpets are Parisian."

Kerry stopped pacing, turning slowly. Michel. He was dressed as casually as she was but, unlike her, he looked as though he belonged in all of this opulence. Kerry scanned him, searching for signs of blood – or of a struggle.

His mouth curved in amusement. "If you've finished trying to wear them out, we'll go."

For a moment Kerry didn't know what he was talking about, and then she remembered that he'd mentioned the carpet. She nodded. There was no blood on him. His hair might have been more tousled, but Kerry figured that there was a certain amount of seduction involved in these blood donations, so there probably hadn't been a struggle. Kerry wondered whether it was fair to pin human morality to a vampire. It probably wasn't, but she didn't know how to help it.

She walked across to him and he pulled her arm through his. They left the building, with Michel steering her toward the river, rather than back to her apartment.

He stopped eventually, leaning against the boardwalk rail and looking out over the river. She leant against the rail too, but facing inward, watching the people walking by rather than the water. "Well?" he asked.

She glanced up at him.

He smirked, as though he could feel the uncertainty roiling inside of her. Could feel all of the questions bubbling under her skin, begging to be given voice. "Are you going to ask?"

"What's the point? You never answer me."

He laughed at her, voice soft. "Just this once," he said. "I will. And I'll tell the truth as well."

Kerry didn't believe him. Oh, maybe if she asked something inconsequential he'd tell the truth, but when it came to anything important he lied like the devil. She shrugged anyway. She didn't have anything to lose by asking, and it would give her a chance to try and read whether he was lying. "Does it hurt them when you feed?" She hadn't meant to sound as though she cared so much; had been trying to sound mildly curious.

The centre of his forehead creased, eyes darkening and sweeping across her face. She had surprised him. Whatever he'd expected her to ask, that wasn't it. Kerry wondered what he thought that she'd been thinking.

"No," he said. "I might get an invite back for some of them if it hurt, but not most."

Kerry thought that he was telling the truth this time, but she didn't trust her judgement enough to know for sure. She hugged her arms around herself against the cold wind coming off the water.

Michel pulled his jacket off and turned around to settle it about her shoulders. "I could always give you a demonstration, if you asked." He sounded languid and amused, leaning into her side as a further buffer against the wind.

Kerry blew warmth into her hands before tucking them into the pockets of Michel's jacket. "You could, but then I'd have to stake you."

He laughed. "Let's try something different tonight," he suggested.

Kerry wondered what he was angling for. Whatever it was, she wasn't falling for it. "Different like a midnight sky-diving experience or different like digging up a grave?"

"Neither of those things would be so very unbelievable for us," said Michel. "Let's do something old-fashioned."

That didn't help. Kerry turned her body, eyes narrowing as she watched Michel's face. "I have no idea what you're asking me to agree to. Knowing you, old-fashioned is stoning adulterers to death outside the city gates."

He snorted on laughter, shoulders shaking as he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to rein it in. "I said old-fashioned, Kerry. Not Biblical. Like a date."

"I don't think dates are for people like us," said Kerry. "I mean, not together at least. I might be able to date someone who wasn't you…" She paused to study him. She couldn't imagine him dating anyone – not as Michel – but if he ever became someone like Ethan again, maybe. A petite blond girl who studied French and fitted under his chin when she hugged him. Someone who was soft to his sharpness. A girl who would make other college students feel comfortable around him even if he was occasionally too cold. "Teddy could date someone who wasn't me," she said. "But you and me? I don't see it."

He smirked at her. "That's the point. We're trying something different."

The spontaneous part of Kerry flared in excitement. The part of her that knew Michel threw warnings at her brain. He was up to something. She didn't know what, but right now it didn't matter. After days of hiding out with him she wanted to be reckless. "Okay," she said. "Shock me."

They went on a date. Michel's jacket was big on her; the sleeves hanging down over her hands, and the jeans she'd thrown on were one of her oldest pairs. Evidently Michel had enough practise with this dating thing that he still knew how to make her think she was the sun his world rotated around. He hailed a cab; barely taking his eyes off her while his hand nestled in the small of her back.

When the cab pulled up to the kerb, Michel pulled the door open for her. It wasn't what Kerry would usually like, but they were playing another game now and she wasn't going to lose this one even if she didn't understand it yet.

She smiled and folded into the waiting cab, sliding across the seat so that Michel could get in beside her. He pressed his mouth to her and she felt the curl of his lips against her temple as he kissed her.

He turned to the driver, "984 Fillion Street," he said as Kerry buckled her seatbelt.

She knew the street, but didn't know what was at 984. It wasn't the ice-cream parlour as she'd half been expecting. Wasn't even close. Michel wouldn't answer if she asked, so she didn't. Testing her ability to go along with things that she couldn't control was probably part of the game. Kerry liked to be in control, but she was really, really good at being laidback when she needed to be.

The cab pulled up quarter of an hour later outside the State Museum. The roman-style columns were lit with a pale pink glow. Kerry climbed out of the taxi, looking up at the entrance. People were milling around the lighted foyer, wine glasses in hand.

Michel finished paying the driver and joined Kerry, fingers twining with hers. She walked with him up the stairs leading to the entrance. Museum night events were on monthly, but Kerry had never made it to one.

A doorman helped her take Michel's jacket off and gave her a number for it. She was dressed less formally than anyone else in the foyer. It didn't bother her much. If she acted as though she belonged, people usually treated her as though she did.

Michel passed her a glass of red wine and offered her his arm when she took it. She had no idea what he was playing at, but she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Perhaps he was keeping her busy while something important went down somewhere else. Unless something important was going down in her apartment, that didn't make sense. He'd be able to keep her away from any other place pretty easily. And Kerry couldn't think of any reason he might be keeping her from her apartment.

Maybe there was something at the museum that he wanted her to see. Or maybe he just didn't want to be cooped up in her apartment any more than she did.

He leant in to Kerry as they walked through the throngs of people chatting in the foyer. Kerry had been to the museum before, of course. She wouldn't have gotten far in demonology if she wasn't interested in history. When they reached the northern gallery, Michel looked back.

"It's like a banquet," he murmured, glancing from group to group. "All these people with lowered defences poking around a darkened museum."

He'd already eaten, so he was probably just trying to annoy her. "Pretty much the same as a pub," said Kerry.

He gave her an affronted look. "You can't compare this to pub food. Pub food has no presentation and very little appeal. It's also usually marinated in cheap beer or the equivalent of cast wine. The food here is marinating in Barossa Valley Shiraz."

Kerry looked at her untouched glass. She didn't really want to think of herself as marinating, but the way he said 'Barossa Valley Shiraz' with that wistful yearning, made her think that she would regret not tasting it. Michel was probably trying to creep her out anyway, and it wouldn't do for him to think it had worked. She took that sip.

"There," said Michel, sotto voce, nodding to a woman in a stunning red dress with glittering strands of diamonds clinging to her throat. "That one is garnished."

Kerry spluttered on her wine so badly that some of it went up her nose. Michel caught the glass out of her hand before she could drop it and she pulled away from him before punching him in the shoulder. "Ugh…" She swiped the collar of her shirt across her mouth and nose. "Stop talking about people as 'pub food' and 'marinating'. It's super creepy."

He smirked at her and she was pretty sure she'd lost a round of 'being cool about your vampire friends'. She wasn't sure she'd want to win that game. "I do eat people, Kerry," Michel said, tone cool as though he thought she'd forgotten.

"Well, obviously," said Kerry. "And I eat chicken, but I never talked about that to my pet canary; because that's sort of psychopathic."

He studied her, eyes shadowed. "Would that make you my pet human? Interesting view you have of yourself."

She blinked at him, blind-sided by the comment. Then he reached up to hook two fingers into the collar of her shirt, drawing her forward.

"Not the view I have of you. Luckily."

Her fingers were tingling, twitching with the impulse to reach up and touch him. This had to be a new sort of game. He must have noticed how she came apart the last two times he'd kissed her. It probably amused him.

He let her shirt go, stepping around her and walking into the first gallery.

Kerry huffed out a breath, feeling heat flood her cheeks. Embarrassment and – just him, almost touching her. It was stupid not to admit it. He was a weakness. Not her biggest weakness, but the most unpredictable. And even if he could be sliced neatly out of her life; she doubted that it was a call that she would make.


	11. Chapter 11

He was in the Egyptian exhibition, studying wall mounted papyrus scrolls when Kerry finally followed him. She went across to a display case of red clay pottery, leaning on the glass to study the pieces. They were mostly unpainted, some of them broken. It never ceased to amaze Kerry how much survived the ages.

She started when Michel leant over her. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and put her wineglass down on the cabinet.

Still leaning against her, preventing her from pushing herself off the display cabinet, Michel studied the pottery pieces. "Why do humans find this so fascinating?"

"You should find it fascinating too," Kerry pointed out. "All of this would have been newfangled technology when you were young."

He pinched the flesh along her ribcage. Not hard enough to hurt; just hard enough for the sensation to be more fascinating than the pottery in the case. Kerry put her hands flat on the glass of the cabinet and pushed back. Her body hit his as she straightened, and he didn't step away, catching her around the waist instead.

"Am I safe to leave you alone for the start of tomorrow night? Not long. Can you find friends who will stick with you?"

He must have been planning on backtracking to the ice-cream parlour for the phone. She didn't care, as long as she got there first. "Yeah, that's no problem."

He stepped back, letting her turn in his arms so that he could see her face. His eyes were narrowed with suspicion. "I can trust you to keep yourself out of harm's way? You're more use to me dead than in Clarence's hands."

Kerry blinked up at him. That…was a lie. Though it shouldn't have been. She already knew that he was here to win her over to his side – so that she'd be of use to him later on. If she was never going to be of use to him, he was better off killing her and making sure that Clarence got nothing from her. But – he'd never come out and admit that to her.

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, Kerry studied Michel. He watched her; expression hard and assessing. Kerry chewed on her lip, no more able to read him than she was to read Braille. "Unless you've decide to kill me, don't threaten me," she said.

His brow furrowed, eyes darkening. Not as though he was angry, but she wasn't about to let him try to intimidate her again.

"Don't," said Kerry. He wasn't actually threatening her. She knew Michel and he never said what he meant. If he wanted to threaten her he'd be so subtle about it that only she would know it was a threat. She just didn't know what he was doing by pretending to threaten her; didn't know what tracks of his he was covering.

He blinked and the threat – or whatever it had been – was gone. Kerry could practically feel the tension drain from the room. "Of course I'm not going to hurt you," he said, voice light. "I don't need to. You did tell me that you would let me call the shots until you were safe." He raised an eyebrow at her, as though asking whether she was going to renege on their deal.

She was; but he didn't need that memo just yet. "I did," she agreed, glaring at him a little, because if she was planning on keeping that deal she wouldn't appreciate being reminded of it.

"So you can keep yourself out of harm's way for a few hours tomorrow night?"

Kerry shrugged. "I'm working tomorrow night. Don't think anyone's going to kidnap me from a coffee shop."

"If you have a break before I get there, stay in the café," said Michel.

Kerry rolled her eyes at him. "I'm reckless, not stupid. If I go outside it will be a calculated risk."

"Calculate carefully," said Michel. "I'd prefer not to have to save you again."

"I'd prefer not to need it again," agreed Kerry.

Michel smiled at her. "I imagine that playing the victim is about as unpleasant to you as playing the hero is to me."

Uncomfortably true. Kerry smiled back at him wryly and shrugged one shoulder. "Well, if you don't think of me as a victim, I won't think of you as a hero," she offered.

Michel assessed her. "I think of you as many things; but never yet a victim."

She would have taken that as a compliment if his tone hadn't suggested that he was open to changing that assessment of her if she gave him a reason to. Sort of unfair, because she would never be able to think of him as a hero no matter what he did. He might save her when it posed no danger to himself – but only if he thought that she might wind up being useful to him.

Kerry wasn't sure what kind of use she might be to him. Something dreary, hopefully. Like the ability to queue up at the post office from nine to five to pay electricity bills. Though that was doubtful.

"You know how to use the Internet, right?" Kerry asked, checking. Maybe he didn't have online banking. Maybe he did just need help with bills.

His brows lowered, eyes registering slight confusion. "I do live in this century."

That theory was out then. Kerry pursed her lips, considering other innocuous things that required daylight. She had nothing.

That left the dastardly things. Crossing her arms, she studied him. "I'm not bait, you know," she said. "I'm not going to lure tender, blood-filled college morsels to you no matter how often you save me."

Michel tilted his chin to give her a frosty look. "The suggestion that I'm not gorgeous enough to lure my own college morsels is laughable," he said severely. "I can have college morsels any time I want."

That was also true. At this point in time Kerry was living proof. Sure, there was some psychotic vampire after her and she had more chance of surviving with Michel than without – but even when Kerry had thought that Michel was lying about her being in danger she'd had no inclination to get rid of him. And that was really, really bad.

Michel glanced at his watch, stepping backwards out of her space. She wondered whether he needed to; had always assumed that he'd have an inbuilt timer and would be able to sense the approach of sunrise.

"You're not running out of time," she said. The night had just begun.

He shook his head. "If we leave in an hour there'll be time to walk back to your apartment. If you wanted to?"

"Yes," said Kerry. She didn't have to think about it. It would be a ridiculously long walk, but the city was beautiful – all glittering lights and glass skyscrapers. And it would be better than getting a cab and being stuck in her room again reading about demons when the closest thing she'd ever met to one read German literature and ignored her.

He smiled, and she could see relief tinge the corner of his eyes. As though being a pseudo-intellectual was a hard act to keep up. But then, that wasn't quite fair. Michel did know his stuff. He'd told Eve and Sarah that he was studying petroleum engineering and he'd been able to answer any questions they had about it – which, considering how little they knew about petroleum or engineering, were few – and any questions Kerry had about it – which, considering that she liked to keep him on his toes, were many.

Chances were that Michel was just as sick of being cooped up inside as Kerry was. As much as she liked reading, there was a point where she just had to get out. They had been going to cafes and bars, but that wasn't the same. What it came down to was that they – neither of them – suited captivity.

They spent the rest of the hour looking at Palaeolithic flint tools and mummified bog bodies.

"Ethical, do you think?" Kerry asked, glancing sideways at Michel. "Keeping the corpses of people for public inspection when they would have had specific preferences on burial rites?"

"Ethics have never much concerned me," said Michel.

"Never?" asked Kerry sceptically.

Michel looked her over languidly. "Don't be disappointed now."

"Not disappointed," said Kerry, turning back to the display case. "Disbelieving. I think that ethics have been of great concern to you."

Michel grinned at her. "Because I come from a different era?" he asked, voice dark with amusement. "Humans always think that in times past people were unwaveringly principled. Ruled by the church and God and all that. Untrue. Moral depravity has always been and always will be."

Kerry shrugged. "Who's to say what moral depravity is anyway?" She glanced across at Michel. "In your time, what I'm wearing would have made people think that I was morally depraved."

He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her face – on her mouth – and then sweeping on. "Oui." The word came out soft – husky and a little bit yearning. Kerry wondered whether he missed his world. Wondered how he felt when every day that passed he moved further away from it.

She shrugged again, sorry for having brought it up. "It's probably time to start walking back."


	12. Chapter 12

She must have fallen asleep before sunrise because he was gone when she woke, and she didn't remember him leaving.

She walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes blearily as she searched for coffee. The walk the night before had done her good, though she'd likely have a few blisters from it.

It was just gone midday, which gave Kerry three hours to find the phone, get the information off it and get to work. She figured it must be an iPhone. Anything else and Michel would have taken the battery out and taken the phone with him – or taken the SIM card if he was worried that the phone itself had a tracking device on it. She just had to hope that Clarence hadn't picked the phone up the night before.

The ice cream parlour was as busy as usual when Kerry got there. She didn't go inside, studying the front of it instead. A narrow alley ran up the right side of it. That was the most likely place for Michel to stash something. She zipped her jacket up and headed into it. For an alley it was clean and relatively bare. Five yards in there was a locked razor-wire topped gate. Michel would have been able to scale it, but he'd come back without any tears in his clothes, so Kerry was betting that he'd stayed on this side of the fence.

It was a relief. Five yards by three was a much easier search space than a full alley.

Or perhaps not. Kerry spent a half hour searching the space before turning around to check that she wasn't missing anything. She wouldn't have noticed the ledge if a pigeon hadn't fluttered up at that moment to sit on it.

It was a narrow expanse of brick a little higher than Kerry could reach. She kicked a milk crate across, stepped up and ran her hand along the ledge. Halfway along her fingers touched something that crackled and she pulled back reflexively before feeling for the object again. It was a parcel wrapped in tin foil. Kerry laughed because it was so like Michel to find a way to block the signal so that Clarence wouldn't find the phone before he could get back to it. He must have asked the girl in the ice creamery for the foil.

Kerry unwrapped the phone and turned it on. It took a few seconds, but when she swiped she was surprised to find that the phone didn't have a PIN code. She'd been expecting an annoying trip to the local Apple store, an afternoon of inventing some crazy lies and possibly bursting into tears a few times.

The fact that the phone had no security set off alarm bells. Kerry didn't know what to make of it. Clarence would have expected his kidnap plan to work, so there shouldn't have been any reason for Michel to be able to get the phone. The lack of PIN reeked of plan B though. Just in case something went wrong in the initial plan, the phone might have been a plant to feed Michel the wrong information.

It would never work. Michel was so suspicious that even if a PIN had been equipped he wouldn't blindly trust what he found on it.

Kerry sat on the upturned milk crate, phone cradled in her palm and chewing her lip as she tried to figure it out. Even if Clarence had put a PIN on it, Michel would have been able to break it. He'd seduce some Apple girl – or Apple boy – or he'd use that suggestion power he had. It would barely take him an hour. If Clarence knew Michel at all he would know that.

It didn't make sense. Michel was going to have to figure it out. Kerry unclipped her earring and pushed it into the slot, ejecting the SIM card. She put her own SIM into the phone and switched it off again, wrapping it in foil and putting it back on the ledge.

She slipped Lucas's SIM in her purse and headed for work. She'd be half an hour early but it would give her a chance to find out what was on Lucas's phone.

It was the middle of dinner rush when Michel showed up – about three hours after sunset. Kerry looked over the tables of college students and winked at him. He arched his brows, corner of his mouth curling – more like a threat than a greeting. She handed out her tray of drinks and walked across to Michel, hugging the tray in front of herself.

"Table for one?"

His gaze did not soften. "I found your SIM card."

Kerry grinned at him. "Nice of you to bring it all this way."

"Where's Lucas's?"

Kerry set the tray on the utensils counter and put her hand into her apron pocket, fishing around for the bit of plastic. She'd disabled the Find My iPhone app so there was no danger of anyone finding her workplace even if Michel went through the SIM. She passed it over and Michel caught her hand, jerking her closer.

"You're playing a dangerous game."

She blinked at him, letting the SIM drop into his fingers. "It's the only one you've taught me," she said.

Usually that would amuse him, even if he didn't forgive her for it. Now he levelled a cold look at her before heading for the only free table. She glanced at the clock by the doors to the kitchen. A little less than two hours till her shift ended. Hopefully it would give him enough time to cool off.

She was yawning when she finished; too tired to hold her own in an argument and pretty sure that she had Bolognese in her hair.

Michel didn't say anything, meeting her at the door as she shoved her apron into her bag. It had been too busy for her to watch him, but the few occasions she'd passed his table he'd been going through the contents of Lucas's SIM card.

"There was no PIN on it," she said as she pushed the café door open and stepped out into the night. It had started to rain out and Kerry had forgotten to bring her umbrella. "You can't trust anything you've found."

Michel didn't reply and Kerry glanced across at him as they started down the street. He was still pissed off. Even only being able to see his face in profile, she could tell that his expression was grim, eyes flinty and mouth set in an implacable line. The raindrops on his skin glowed gold in the street-lights.

She licked rain off her upper lip, watching him warily. She'd never managed to piss him off this much. Sure, there'd always been times that she'd annoyed him but usually he just found her amusing. Since he'd had to save her from Lucas he'd been angry with her twice. He had warned her she might become more trouble than she was worth, and maybe it was true.

She tossed soaked hair out of her eyes, glaring ahead as she walked on. She wasn't going to try and placate him. If it looked as though he was going to give up on her, she'd wait for daylight and skip town. She ran her hand across the window of the boutique bridal store as they passed, rivulets streaming down her fingers.

"It wasn't Clarence's phone."

Kerry turned her head. "What?"

"The phone was Lucas's," said Michel. There was a sharp edge to his voice that Kerry couldn't interpret. She tried to figure out what he was telling her instead.

The phone had been Lucas's, not Clarence's; but what did that matter? Kerry stopped walking and turned toward Michel fully. "You mean that Lucas didn't trust Clarence?"

Michel watched her, eyes shadowed in the low light.

"You think that Lucas didn't password protect his phone because he wanted you to find information on it if he died? What for? To get back at Clarence for not protecting him properly?"

It made a sort of sense. If Lucas got killed doing Clarence a favour he'd likely be more annoyed with Clarence about it than with Michel. That meant that he might have had his own back-up plan in case Clarence let him down. A back-up plan that meant siding with Michel – but also meant revenge for Clarence's failure.

Kerry blinked at Michel, trying to make his expression out through the driving rain. His eyes were cold, and his mouth hadn't softened.

"Why are you …" She didn't even know what she was trying to ask. Why he was giving her clues to figure the mystery out when he always preferred to keep her in the dark, why he was so angry with her? She flicked her tongue across her lips nervously. There was nothing about Michel that she understood tonight.

He stepped forward into her space. "I wondered if you could figure it out on your own." His voice was low, only a few octaves higher than the sound of raindrops pelting the pavement. It still reverberated through her.

"Michel?"

He made a sound; soft, like a hum, pressed her into the bridal shop plate glass window and kissed her.

He was cold and the rain was cold and the damn window was cold as hell. Nothing about this should have been hot. But it was. Kerry arched against the glass, hands sliding up under his jacket.

"You're so cold," she said, because apparently she stated the obvious in situations like these.

He pulled back to look down at her, mouth quirking in amusement. Then he dipped his head to nibble the point behind her ear. His body felt warmer; heat flaring through his thin T-shirt against her palms.

"How are you..? You're getting warmer."

"No." He did something with his tongue that made her shiver. "You just think I am."

"I…You're using your mind-bling on me? Are you..?"

He caught her mouth with his, but she pulled away, leaning her head back against the window.

"Did you just kiss me to shut me up?"

Michel laughed at her. "Honestly," he said, voice smoky. He leant in to her throat and breathed her in. "Keep talking. I kind of like it. I'm not going to stop kissing you though."

Kerry's train of thought almost ran right off the rails; especially when he followed through with his promise and feathered kisses across her jawline.

"Your uniform makes me unhappy," he murmured into her ear.

Uniform. Work. Kerry creased her nose. "I have pasta sauce in my hair."

He cupped her jaw, stroking a thumb along her cheekbone and watching her. It might have been pouring rain, but Kerry's mouth was dry, her chest tight as though she wasn't drawing enough air. He was still warm – or her brain thought that he was. She buried her face in his chest, wriggling her body into the warmth of his.

He jerked away, taking two sharp steps backward. Kerry stared at him, blinking rainwater out of her eyes. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but his eyes were hard as flint again and trained on her face like she'd done something unforgivable. She bit down on her lower lip and studied him.

He had been getting angry with her so much since the Lucas incident. The other thing that had started happening since that night, though? He'd started kissing her. All the Goddamn time.

She licked the rainwater from her lips. It did nothing to alleviate the dryness of her mouth. Her voice, when she found it, sounded fragile – like something on the brink of shattering. "I didn't think that vampires could fall in love."

Michel gave a harsh bark of laughter and half-turned away from her, shaking his head. "Believe me; I'm as stunned as you are."


	13. Chapter 13

Rivulets of water ran down the glass of the store front, soaking through her jacket, but she couldn't push herself up. Instead she watched Michel, eyes narrow as she tried to read him. She didn't need to. She already knew that she had guessed right – he was in love with her.

"That makes me a liability." She didn't know how much danger this situation put her in but her voice was neutral.

Michel just laughed at her, shaking his head, eyes as cold as frost. As though he was annoyed that she'd even consider that he might hurt her.

She wasn't enough of a weakness that he'd kill her then. Not yet. Skipping town wasn't a last resort any longer though – she'd have to get out as soon as she could. She might not threaten him now, but that could change in an instant.

He must have read her worries on her face because he sighed, carding a hand through his water-slick hair. "I'm not going to kill you."

Kerry folded her arms, shoulders bracing against the cold glass behind her as she lifted her chin. "No?"

He stepped closer, eyes narrow and face still grim. With the glass right behind her, she had nowhere to back up; but she wouldn't have anyway. He hadn't killed her once when he should have, and apparently in her mind that meant that he was safe. "You know I'm not."

"I know that you're a liar."

He propped his forearms on either side of her on the glass, blocking off exits that she wasn't really planning on using. "So are you."

She blinked up at him, the rain blurring her vision. It didn't make sense that he knew that he loved her and he was still here. If there was anything that should have made him cut his losses, it was this.

He tangled a hand into her hair, damp strands snagging on his skin as he pulled tight. "You're a risk," he conceded, voice as cold and sharp as the rain pelting her. If he'd spoken gently, it would have scared the hell out of her. His gentle was a lie; and he might as well have been telling her that she was a risk that he couldn't take. This harshness – it was something else. Something safer. "Calculated," he said.

Kerry blinked at him again. Calculated…a calculated risk – one he was willing to take. "What does that mean?" she demanded. "I'm meant to just…" She broke off, chewing her lower lip as she frantically tried to keep up. "What do you want? Exactly? Is this..?" She broke off, watching him, though his expression didn't change.

"I thought that I was being quite clear. I want you."

"Forever?" asked Kerry. "Or until you get bored?"

Michel raised his eyebrows, a faint sneer curling his mouth as though he'd expected more from her. "Do you want me to promise that my feelings won't change? If I had any control over them, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all."

No promises then. Nothing to tie him down. He'd stay until she stopped amusing him and then move on. And it would be he who left. If she opened that door, she would never close it. She shook her head, sending droplets flying. "Forget it," she said, shoving his arm out of the way and ducking past him. "I have guys who actually want to keep me around." She shrugged her shoulders back and headed up the street, jamming her hands into her pockets as she walked.

"Kerry." She stopped and looked back. Even through the haze of rain he pulled all of her attention like some sort of black-hole attuned to her senses. "I get that you have options. God, you're nineteen, you've got thousands of them. I've got options too, but…" He slicked his hair out of his eyes impatiently, but droplets clung to his lashes, glinting gold in the street-light. "You're my first. If I only had one choice here, it would be you." He wasn't as good with the truth as he was with deceit. It came out sounding wrong, like he was lying but he wasn't very good at it.

Kerry stood and stared at him, working her hands into the bottoms of her pockets and shoulders tense; wanting nothing more than to run away and leave this horrible, awkward confrontation behind. They were made for playing mind-games with each other. It was their dynamic and it worked. This truth stuff…it couldn't. "What if the other option was death?" she asked. Self-preservation was his first instinct. They could both handle that. It was their comfort zone; he protected himself before anything else and she protected her pride.

"Oh." His demeanour changed, shoulders shifting backwards as he studied her, as though he was assessing a suspicious second-hand car and finding it wanting. "Well, I'd throw you in then." He was lying; smooth and easy with just the right amount of discomfort in the set of his face, as though he was a little embarrassed that he wasn't gallant enough to die for her. She wished for a moment that she couldn't read his lies so effortlessly now. So much easier if this was the truth, or even if she could believe it was.

And then, because she had never been a coward and wasn't going to cocoon her emotions while he spilled his, she lifted her chin. "I don't want to be a vampire."

He swore, turning away from her and sliding his hands through his hair again as though this was the most agonising thing he had ever done. "Do you think that matters? That's not…"

"That's not a pre-requisite?" she threw out like a challenge because, really, it had to be.

"There are no pre-requisites," said Michel through gritted teeth. "I'm not telling you that I want you if you get rid of your hideous mini-skirts and if you grow your hair long instead of having that." He motioned at her face, a quick twirl of the hand to show his distain of her pixie-cut. "And if you become a vampire I'll consider you an option. I already…Why are you making me explain this?"

Kerry shrugged miserably. "It's just not…I mean, people don't choose me every day, Michel. It's not like I have experience with this sort of thing."

"I choose you," said Michel, spine very straight as though he was fighting this entire situation even though he was the one putting them through it. "And you've never needed experience to be able to handle yourself in any given situation. You just adapt…" he trailed off and ran his gaze across her face, like a touch even at ten paces. She could tell that he wanted to add, _'like a vampire,'_ but stopped himself because the subject of her not wanting to be one still hung between them.

She closed her eyes as though that could somehow get her further away from this. Finally, eyes still closed, she nodded. "When?" she asked and her voice choked off as she realised that she didn't know what she was trying to ask. She swallowed, carding a hand through her hair. "When did you…I mean, what was it?"

"It's recent," said Michel, obviously understanding what she needed to know before she did. "I wasn't in love with you when I came back. I intended to, you know. I was always going to look you up again when you were old enough to be useful."

Kerry nodded. She had known. She'd moved as far from her father and Ian as she could to spare them. They were never going to get caught up with vampires again if she could help it; but she had always known that escape wasn't going to be an option for her.

Michel frowned as though he hadn't mapped his own feelings yet, and didn't know when it had started. "When Lucas tried to kill you that night at Sin Grotto," he said.

Kerry stared at him. If he was seriously suggesting that he had realised how much he cared about her when he thought that he was going to lose her she was going to laugh at him so hard. It was such a ridiculous cliché.

Michel shook his head though. "You got yourself out of that," he said, tone low as though he hadn't believed it then and still didn't. "I mean, I killed him, but you figured it all out. How to let me know you were in danger, what he was up to, how to stall. You didn't panic. Not then and not later." He laughed shortly, shoving a hand through his hair. "I was glad he'd gotten so close. I thought it would make you easier to bully – thought you'd do what I wanted." He shrugged, mouth twisting in a wry smile. "You were more difficult than ever."

Kerry chewed her lower lip, watching him. He wasn't going to run. Having an emotional investment in someone as unpredictable as her had to be all kinds of horrifying for him. And maybe he was so far gone that he couldn't bring himself to kill her; but the only other sane option was for him to get the hell out until he was over her, surely? Vampires had to be able to shuck off their lives like snakes sloughed off skin. They had to be able to leave everything behind and start afresh – their survival depended on it.

He smirked at her, doing that infuriating thing where he could guess her thoughts again, moving closer. "For guilty pleasures I can't imagine one I'd want more than you."

Kerry shivered. It had nothing to do with the icy bite of rain, and everything to do with the way he was looking at her. It was clear that she wouldn't have a choice about opening this door. If he wanted in on her life she wouldn't be able to say no – wouldn't want to. She was more herself with him than she had been with anyone else.

Maybe it had rattled her to be such a stone-cold liar at sixteen. It had seemed crazy that in the space of forty-eight hours she'd gone from normal to someone who would risk everything to save a guy she didn't know, someone who could double-cross a vampire, someone who could kill a vampire hunter. Lie about it all – and not feel bad about any of it. Well, maybe about the killing.

The point was that those nights had changed her. Not made her worse. It was more basic than that. Those nights had made Kerry into the best possible version of herself. And Michel was the only one who had ever seen this version of her.

Others had suspected it. Nelle hadn't been able to stay friends with Kerry after the attack – or maybe Kerry hadn't been able to stay friends with Nelle. Kerry had become dangerous overnight while Nelle was still the sweet girl that wore fluffy jumpers and cut boy-band pictures out of magazines to stick on her walls. When Kerry suddenly got into Wing Chun and weapons training, Nelle cut out.

It should have hurt, but didn't. Kerry didn't want to go back to Nelle's world any more than she wanted to drag Nelle to hers. But she didn't have to drag Michel anywhere. He was already there.

"You're handling this okay?" Michel's question was casual, as though he didn't much care how she was dealing with it, but Kerry suspected that he knew her first impulse had been to skip town.

She shrugged. "If I don't handle this well, you've only yourself to blame. You're not meant to confess love when the girl has bolognaise in her hair. You're meant to wait until she feels sexy."

Michel stepped forward again so that she had to tilt her head upwards to watch him. He leaned in to her, sure fingers running down her throat before mapping her curves through her uniform. "You feel sexy to me."

Kerry would have loved to be the kind of girl who could flip her hair and have a nonchalant rejoinder for that. Instead a wave of heat rushed through her skin and her heart slammed against her ribs in staccato bursts.

He smirked because, of course, he could hear her heart's pathetic declaration of lust – or, dear God, love – even above the rain. She dropped her gaze to his chest; flustered and annoyed and wanting him all at once. He cupped her jaw, thumb tracing her lower lip. "You don't have to say it back." His voice was indulgent and, as always, mocking. "You humans betray so much without ever saying a word."

She glanced up at him. Remnants of a smile lingered in his eyes, slightly taunting but mostly riveted – as though he didn't want to look away.

Caution be damned. She stretched up on her toes, pulling him down the extra few centimetres and kissing him fiercely.


	14. Chapter 14

They tumbled into Kerry's building, leaving puddles through the front foyer. Kerry pinned Michel to the elevator wall and tasted his throat, nipping the bare flesh as she charted his back with trembling fingers. She couldn't quite believe that he was letting her take control. But he did. He let her pin him. His hands curled into her hair and he tipped her face up for a kiss.

He was slow and steady to her frantic; fingers stroking the nape of her neck as he murmured soothing sounds between languid kisses.

He leant back against the inside of the elevator when she wriggled impatiently against him. "We have all night." His voice was just as languid as his kisses; but heat clung to the edges of it as though he was struggling to stay composed. "No need to rush; I promise."

Kerry wondered whether he had something against rushing. They'd been dancing around this situation ever since he'd come back – that had taken enough time, surely? She laced the fingers of her left hand with his, studying him as he traced the line of her jaw with his free hand. His eyes were hard, as though he'd tamped down all of his emotions. Under the florescent lighting he looked beautiful, but he didn't look the slightest bit human.

That was probably the closest she'd come to seeing him discomfited. His way of putting up a shield. He wasn't taking it slow for her – he was taking it slow for him. It made sense; it had probably been years since he'd been in a situation like this.

The lift pinged to a stop and Kerry backed out. "Shower with me?" She didn't realise until the words were out how like him she was. Her voice got cold when she was nervous – while he turned full vampire on her. If they wanted a healthy relationship, they were so screwed.

He caught her around the waist, lifting her with ease. She wrapped her arms and legs around him; running her teeth along his throat. He plucked the keys from her unresisting fingers and unlocked the door while she kissed him. His multi-tasking skills pretty much left hers choking in the dust. She'd barely undone his jacket and he was kicking the bathroom door closed behind them and setting her down on the vanity, mouth not leaving hers for an instant.

It was all a little too sudden, a little too desperate. Michel should have been keeping up some defences, but she hadn't run into any. That wasn't something she wanted to think about, so she shoved the notion aside and pulled back to lick her bruised lips.

Michel shrugged out of his jacket, taking two steps to the door and locking it. He was too beautiful for this dilapidated place with its cracked vinyl floors and 70s robin-egg blue tub. It didn't make sense that he was putting up with it for her.

Kerry leant against the mirrored wall and grinned at him. He didn't smile; eyes cool as he came back to her. Not bothering with the zipper of her jacket, he caught the hem and pulled it over her head, dragging her shirt along with it.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, but her fingers were stiff with cold. "If we don't get in the shower pretty much now, I'm going to freeze."

He stepped aside, letting her duck past him to turn the faucets on. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was leaning against the vanity, arms folded across his chest. His defences were still down; Kerry thought that he was keeping them down by force of will. The idea made her stomach twist unpleasantly because it meant something, and she was pretty sure that it didn't mean anything good. She wondered if she could afford to ignore the possible warning sign, then he pulled his shirt off and she stopped caring about anything that wasn't him.

#

They ended up in bed, twisted up in each other, still damp. It was starting to worry Kerry that Michel hadn't been the slightest bit mocking since she'd kissed him out by that bridal boutique. He'd been far more like the sweet college kid that she'd first met – not sunny exactly, but attentive and careful with her. It was disconcerting and – well, Kerry preferred Michel to Ethan.

She ran her fingers down his chest, nails lightly scouring his skin, still a little amazed that she was allowed to do this. Even more amazed that he wasn't scornfully amused by her cautious reverence.

She sat up, pushing her hair back. "I'm going to find something to eat. Did you manage to get something tonight?"

He grinned, a sharp flash of fang in the low light. "The Apple boy was very accommodating."

Of course, Michel would have had to go there to get her SIM unlocked. Kerry slipped out of bed, pulling an oversized T-shirt on as she headed for the door.

She'd fallen behind on shopping so the only thing she could find in the pantry was brown rice and a can of chilli tuna. It would do. She filched one of Sarah's single-serve yoghurts and ate it while leaning against the bench waiting for the rice to cook.

Away from Michel it was easier to think. Away from Michel, his behaviour worried her more. It was second nature for him to keep her at arm's length; keep her unsure of him. His sudden sweetness probably meant that he was trying out a new way to control her – only it didn't feel like it. It felt like his touch had felt when she'd told him that she didn't want to be a vampire all those years ago. Like his hug had felt when he'd realised that he was either going to have to kill her or let her go.

He was letting her go.

Fingers numb, Kerry fumbled the yoghurt and the container dropped from her hands. Michel caught it before it hit the floor, depositing it and the spoon on the bench. His clothes were still soaked so he was in a towel instead.

"How long does it take you humans to eat?" He sounded more indolent than annoyed.

Kerry smirked at him. "I don't have to seduce my food, so significantly less time than it takes you, I imagine."

He grinned, moving into her space. Still way too careful. When he kissed her it felt like he was afraid that he'd break her.

She hit him in the chest with the palm of her hand. "I know you're a vampire," she said against his mouth. "You're not going to scare me off."

He chuckled and pressed his fangs into her lower lip. Even though this was different from the last time, it felt like he was kissing her goodbye. It was a long, languid kiss that made her think that he was memorising her – and that this was the last chance he'd have.

She pulled away. "What was on Lucas's phone?" It had better be something insurmountable if he was planning on leaving her over it.

He stiffened, eyes narrowing before he shook his head forcefully. "Nothing."

"Give it to me," said Kerry. She had checked the phone, but she'd been checking text messages because she hadn't known that Lucas was trying to feed them what they needed. She should have looked in the memo app or calendar.

He sighed, but turned and left the kitchen. Kerry was about to follow him when he came back. He set the phone in her hand. "I'll be in your room." He stepped back but reached out to tangle his fingers in her hair. "There's not much left of the night."

Kerry tried to supress the shudder that flickered through her spine as he left her. They didn't have much time. When she'd walked away from him three years ago, she was sure that he would find her again. This time he was walking away, and she wasn't sure of anything.

She swiped the phone on and worked her way through the memos. When she was done, the rice was boiling over onto the stove-top and her fingers were trembling.

She took the pan off the heat, abandoned the rice in the sink and went back to the bedroom.

"There's nothing here," she said, holding the phone up. "I thought that Lucas would give you something to work with."

Michel lowered her demonology text, lifted his head, and watched her. She chewed her lower lip; stared back, willed him to break before she did. He was a vampire though; he'd had hundreds of years to learn to control himself – her nineteen years had nothing on him. He was relaxed, leaning back into her pillows on the bed, wrapped in a towel and looking like a Greek god.

Kerry cleared her throat. "So you know where Clarence is," she said, her voice carefully blank. She didn't let herself beg, no matter how much she might have wanted to. "That's not a plan. Lucas could have told you his weak spots. He could have given you an indication of what kind of security Clarence has. A location isn't enough."

Michel flickered a smile of amusement at her. "We're vampires, Kerry."

Kerry lifted her chin. "What you're saying is that Lucas didn't know what Clarence's weak spots were. He didn't know anything but the location, because Clarence is as paranoid as you are."

That smile flickered again, warmer, like she'd proved to be worthy of some expectation he'd had of her.

"We could leave," said Kerry. "I can pack before tomorrow night. I can promise never to come back here…"

"Never to see your family again," Michel put in succinctly, lifting the book.

Kerry bit back a sob of frustration. Even if she made that promise he'd know that she was lying. "We can still leave," she protested. "He doesn't know who I am. No one let my name slip."

Michel shook his head, not looking up from the book. "He'll find you, no matter where we go. This is the best chance I'll have to take him down. If we run, I won't be able to find him again."

"You can't walk into his lair," said Kerry. Lair probably wasn't the right word when, according to Lucas, Clarence was set up in one of the more affluent buildings in the area. "You don't know how many vampires he's recruited."

He set the book aside and unfolded from the bed, moving to stand by her, fingers brushing the side of her throat before she had time to blink. "I am incredibly old, Kerry." His French accent, which occasionally slipped into his voice now dripped from every word; so thick that Kerry had to concentrate to understand him. "His powers are nothing on mine."

"He's younger than you?"

Michel sighed. "You know me. If he was a danger to me I would kill you – or leave you to die – no matter my feelings on the matter. Of course he's younger than me. His sire was younger than mine as well. Why do you think he wanted you?"

Kerry licked her lips, studying Michel. "He needed an edge," she said.

Michel grinned. "Because he would never be able to take me without one."

Kerry reached out and touched his chest, felt the beat of his heart beneath the flesh; many times slower than hers. Steady. His tone was even, amused, a little mocking. And she couldn't pick out anything in his words that didn't ring true. Michel would abandon anything to ensure his safety.

But she stretched up to kiss him and everything in that kiss felt like a goodbye.

He wasn't letting her go. He was preparing to die.


	15. Chapter 15

He left half an hour before dawn, staying back longer than usual.

"I won't be back tomorrow night," he said, twirling her hair around a finger lazily. "If I'm not back the night after then I won't be back at all."

Spelling it out so that she wouldn't be left wondering.

"I could go with you," she said.

He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. "You'll be a distraction. You were a distraction last time."

That was emphatically true. She scowled at him in exasperation anyway. "Obviously I won't switch sides on you this time."

"Don't," he agreed. "The other side is nowhere near as hot as me."

"The other side wasn't as hot as you last time," said Kerry.

Michel stared at her. The line of his shoulders began to shake with laughter and he reached out to pull her in to him. His clothes were still cold and damp, soaking into her thin T-shirt. She didn't pull back. "Don't even compare me to Marsala, Kerry. That's unforgivable."

He was keeping things light; drawing the conversation away from her offer to go with him. She knew that he was, and the worst part about it was that she wanted to be drawn. She wanted to tease him and argue with him the way she always had, about stupid things that didn't matter. She didn't want to have a conversation that would end with him going off and dying.

"Michel," she said.

He glanced toward the window, fingers tapping against his thigh. "We're out of time."

Damn it, he was right. Kerry squeezed her hands into fists. " _Michel_."

He trailed his fingers through her hair, mouth curled at the corners. "The night after tomorrow," he promised, voice smoky and languid as though everything was fine, but she could feel his hand trembling in her curls. "You can save up any old idiotic thing to tell me then."

Keeping things light hadn't worked so now he was picking a fight with her. She wanted to punch him, but there wasn't time.

He twisted his fingers into her hair and dragged her to him. There was nothing human about this kiss. She felt the slide of his fangs on her lips, tongue, jaw, throat. Never enough pressure to break the skin; but there was a desperation in the kiss that made Kerry claw her nails into Michel's back, holding on even when he pulled away.

He caught her wrists, unfastening them from his shirt and stepping out of her arms. "Don't get clingy." He ruffled her hair with one hand, already turning away from her toward the door. "Not an attractive trait in any girl."

He was gone before she could formulate a response.

That was…that was sort of okay. Kerry closed her hands, rubbed her fingers against empty palms.

If she tried she'd be able to convince herself that she'd read it wrong. Michel hadn't been shaking with fear; he'd been shaking with the anticipation of his next kill. He wanted her to stay behind – not because he knew they would both die if they went, but because he couldn't bear the thought of her seeing him make kills. He didn't trust that she could handle it. Oh yes, Kerry could lie to herself as convincingly as she could lie to anyone else. But in this case she wasn't going to.

Whoever Clarence was, he was more powerful than Michel. Whatever he wanted Kerry for, it wasn't an edge. The advantage was already on his side.

The sun wasn't up yet and Kerry had the day. She turned and headed for her room. Michel couldn't do anything until the sun set again. In that time maybe she could find him an advantage. She stopped in her tracks, mind clamping down on that thought. She had the day.

She checked the time on her phone. Just enough. Not letting herself reconsider, she found Michel's number and called it. She could just text, but she needed to be sure.

He answered on the first ring.

"Where are you?" She made her voice hard because when she was scared she sounded angry.

"Kerry?"

"Are you safe? Michel, tell me. It's forty seconds to sunrise, answer the Goddamn question!"

"I'm fine, Kerry. What's happened?"

She could hear the panic spike his voice, could hear that he was trying to adjust it. Keep calm so that she'd calm down. "Are you well away from the light? How far would someone have to drag you to get you into sunlight?" There was a pause on the other end of the line as Michel tried to work through the connotations of what she'd asked. "Damn it, Michel!"

"Four hundred metres," said Michel. "I'll be fine. I'm not going to tell you where I am." She could hear how much it cost him to not ask for her help.

"You don't need to," said Kerry. "There's twenty seconds to sunset. Even you can't get four hundred metres in twenty seconds."

"Kerry?"

"I'm taking the lair during the day," said Kerry. "Your way was never going to work." Then she hung up. She was counting on him to take the sensible option, and he did. The phone rang moments later. Kerry ignored it, watching as light crept over the horizon. He'd run out of time.

#

Mallory Tower, the building that Clarence was in, wouldn't open to visitors until nine. Kerry sifted through whatever information she could find on it, but came up mostly blank. If nothing else, the security on the place was crazy. Bringing weapons wasn't going to be an option. She'd just have to hope that Clarence didn't have too many human servants – or whatever the hell they called themselves.

It was something she could think about when she'd had a chance to rest. Kerry set her alarm for nine and crawled into bed.

On midday she walked into the foyer of Mallory Tower, twirling a document tube in one hand and bouncing a little in her steel-capped sneakers. The security guard glanced her up and down without much interest as she put her bike helmet and the tube into a tub and walked through the metal detectors.

She swore good humouredly when it buzzed and went back to shuck off her shoes, belt and bangles.

"Cool belt," said the guard, handing it back to her as she came through again.

She grinned, looping it through her cargos but not bothering to do it up, letting the royal flush card buckle hang loose as she grabbed her bangles and slid them over her hand. "Only worthwhile thing I got off my ex."

He waited for her to drag her shoes on and do her laces before handing her the helmet and tube. "Heavy," he commented, dropping the cylinder into her hand.

"You're telling me." She waved the tube at him and headed for the elevators. She'd read the memo Lucas had left Michel over and over the night before. It was committed to memory. Clarence and his people had the penthouse apartment. The full top floor. Even if she had to take out a few humans to get to Clarence, hopefully no one else would hear them.

She tapped the floor number with the butt of the tube and leant against the mirrored back wall of the elevator as it began to rise.

If Clarence had humans, she was going to be killing someone today. Even if he didn't. Clarence might not have been technically alive, but nor was Michel. No matter what happened, if things went her way, she'd have blood on her hands by the end of the day. She was pretty sure that she could come to terms with it. Eventually.

The elevator doors opened and Kerry stepped out. To her right full length windows showed a panorama of the city. To her left was the door that led to the penthouse. It was open.

Kerry swung the tube up, settling the heft of it on the crook of her shoulder. This was not good. Probably wasn't the worst thing in the world either. They wouldn't risk guns in a place like this, and they wanted her alive. Her odds were still fair. Better than Michel's would have been.

She walked up the corridor and into the apartment. Kill anything that got in her way, find out where Clarence slept and take him down.

The windows were covered with heavy drapes. Likely shutters as well. Victorian style lamps offered a soft glow of light to the dim room. Kerry glanced around. No one behind the door. No place for anyone to hide in the first room.

She headed for the corridor, footfalls muffled by lush Persian rugs. A few chaise lounges adorned the sitting room at the end of the corridor. The furniture was all dark stained oak and ancient. British design, if Kerry had to hazard a guess. It wasn't as delicate in design as French and the colours were sedate. Several potted orchids decorated the lounge. If it weren't for the heavy red fire extinguisher hanging on the far wall, the place would have been an exact replica of some Victorian gentleman's rooms.

"This is a surprise."

Kerry turned her head. In the corner, a man sat in a captain's chair, obscured by shadows. His voice was… It was hard to pinpoint; but calm, unsurprised. There was an element to it that sounded just like Michel. Calculated, she realised. Measured to create the right response in her. And if this guy had enough experience to figure out how to use his voice to control her – if he had that down in just one sentence…

"Hello, Clarence," said Kerry.


	16. Chapter 16

"Michel's toy." Clarence sounded curious and disgusted at once; as though the scandal of a vampire being interested in a human was more than he could bear.

Kerry stretched. If Clarence was powerful enough to function during the day, she was done. She'd keep her death to her terms as much as she could. There was no way she'd let him use her against Michel. Pushing the straps of her bike helmet onto her wrist, she reached out an arm and flicked the main lights on.

"Pass Frank that tube, will you, pet?"

Kerry glanced across at Clarence. Something made a sound against the carpeted floor behind her and she turned. Another man stood in the hall. Human – she'd never have heard him if he was a vampire. A crowbar was grasped in the fist by his side. He reached his free hand toward her, palm up.

She eyed the crowbar, chewing her lower lip. There was no way that cardboard would stand up to it. And there were connotations in Clarence's request that needed some serious consideration. Connotations that might mean she had a chance after all. Finally she shrugged and dropped the document cylinder into Frank's hand.

Her fingers felt empty without the reassuring heft of it, but that wasn't important. What was important was the fact that Clarence had a human around even though he was awake during the day. It was also important that he'd asked her to give up her document holder. A cardboard tube that had passed through metal detectors without issue.

Kerry stepped away from Frank, heading further into the room because he was blocking the only exit. She leant against the desk and watched both the man and the vampire.

Frank pulled the door closed behind him and slid a latch across. He had a bouncer build – bulky, especially around the shoulders. He wouldn't need the crowbar to take her down. Even with years of Wing Chun under her belt, he'd outmatch her in combat. That was okay. She'd have him when it came to speed.

Clarence looked as though he'd been in his mid-thirties when he'd been turned. He was taller than Michel, broader too. Just as hot. Which proved again how much of a liar Michel was.

Kerry reached out to touch the waxy petal of the orchid in the pot on the desk beside her. "So," she said. "This is going to be unpleasant."

Clarence looked her up and down, a leisurely sweeping glance. He smiled finally, a hint of fang showing. "Yes."

"I've heard that some of these things take five years to flower," said Kerry.

"Try fifteen years," said Clarence.

Kerry shrugged and snapped the stem of the orchid at the base.

Clarence's smile vanished and he drew his lips back and snarled.

Frank stepped forward and Kerry tossed her head. "Just making sure you'll remember me at least fifteen years longer than you do most of your victims."

Clarence held a hand up and Frank stilled, glancing across at the vampire before going back to guard the doorway. "You're not what I had expected," said Clarence.

Since he was awake, and since Kerry had a sliver of a chance of getting out of this alive, she wasn't going to leave without as much information as she could pry from him. "I don't know why you'd expect someone boring."

Clarence leaned back in his chair. "I expected someone exquisite. And fascinating. They are not mutually exclusive traits."

Kerry tilted her head and frowned. "What? You don't think I'm exquisite?"

Clarence rested his chin on his knuckles and looked her over again, gaze lingering on her face. "Not even close. Michel's standards were higher once."

Kerry grinned at him. "Maybe your eyesight just isn't what it used to be. You're what? A hundred years older than Michel? Two hundred? Your faculties are probably going."

That made Clarence laugh, a warmly enveloping sound that Kerry instinctively distrusted. "You're refreshing if nothing else. _I_ wouldn't die for you, but…" He shrugged, mouth twisting wryly. "We'll see."

The palms of Kerry's hand tingled unpleasantly as the implications of Clarence's words sunk in. "We'll see what?" Did he think that Michel might die for her? Is that what he was getting at?

A flash of fang as Clarence stretched and smiled lazily at her. "If you want to play with the vampires, you need to be prepared for the games, precious."

Kerry knew the games. She'd spent years playing them with unsuspecting friends and family. Mostly she didn't even feel guilty about it anymore. Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes at Clarence. "What games?"

"The folder by you," said Clarence, nodding at her. "Open it."

Kerry kept her eyes on Clarence and Frank, finding the folder on the desk with her fingertips and flipping it open. Inside was a scrap of thin paper. Kerry picked it up, glanced at it quickly. She didn't need more than a moment. It was the yearbook photo of her that had been put in the papers when she had gone missing with Michel all those years ago, yellowed with age now.

"Sweet," she said, dropping the scrap. "You keep a photo of me."

Clarence shook his head, looking amused. "Michel did. What do you think made him come running to you so quickly?"

Kerry licked her lips. She hadn't thought that there had been any rush in Michel getting to her. Sure, he'd shown up at the laundromat with nothing, but that was just – He played games, he was dramatic. It wasn't anything else. He'd already had a place to stay by the time he'd found her. Some place he would have scoped out and made safe. That first night he'd been back he'd left her apartment half an hour before the sun rose. No way would he leave anything that long unless there was a safety net already in place.

Maybe there were more games being played here than Kerry realised. "Did it ever occur to you that Michel might be using me as a distraction?" She didn't know what else was going on in Michel – or Clarence's – lives that might require a distraction but it made more sense than what Clarence was suggesting.

Clarence laughed, shaking his head. "I have two hundred years on Michel. He doesn't play games with me. I play games with him. And I always win."

"Well, you've lost this one," said Kerry. "Better luck next time."

"I'm not sure how you measure success and failure, but from where I'm sitting it looks as though I'm winning."

"Sure, you have me," said Kerry. "And if Michel is to be believed you wanted me to dish the dirt on him. The only thing is I don't have anything on him. I don't know his hideouts. I don't know his companions. I don't know his blood donors. I got nothing, and that means that you have nothing."

Tapping one immaculate shoe against the carpet, Clarence studied her. "Michel is never to be believed, pet." He shook his head, leaning forward to push himself up from his chair. "You're a pawn. The game is beyond your comprehension."

Kerry creased her nose at him. She was pretty sure that she understood the game now, but part of it didn't add up. "Oh, come on. I'm curious now."

He laughed at her, softly amused. "You do understand the part of a pawn? We push you to suit our needs. Sometimes – often – we sacrifice you for the greater game."

"And sometimes a pawn can take a king," said Kerry, voice soft. She was right, she got the game. There was just far more to sacrifice than she had expected. More than she would have risked.

Clarence smiled, carding a hand through his hair. "Michel's not a king. He will die before he has the chance to take the crown from me. But you're right. You're the pawn that will take him."

So vampires had royalty. That was kind of more trashy supernatural erotica than Kerry had been expecting. "Seriously? You're fighting over a crown?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Sibling rivalry."

Kerry blinked. Michel and Clarence looked nothing alike... And there was two hundred years between them. It must have been some vampire thing. If Michel was even an eighth as sharing as Clarence, she'd know all of this and wouldn't have to fish for information. "You had the same – do you call them sires? You were turned by the same vampire?"

Clarence nodded to Frank. "Keep her alive. Make sure she's capable of speech and put her somewhere safe."

"Woah," said Kerry. "I'm no use to you. If Michel was going to risk his life for me why would he send me here?"

"He didn't," said Clarence as Frank pushed himself off the door frame and headed for her. "He would have come. You beat him to it."

"And he just randomly told me where you were, did he?"

Clarence's eyes darkened, as though in doubt, but Frank was too close for Kerry to push that advantage. She was out of time and that was all the information she was going to get on Michel. All in all, it was not a bad haul.

Frank was less than two metres away. He didn't raise the crowbar, reaching out to grab her with his free hand instead. She threw the fistful of dirt she'd taken from the orchid pot into his face, deflected his arm with the bike helmet and followed the dirt to the face with a punch, bangles slid over her knuckles and gripped in her hand as make-shift knuckledusters. Not enough to take him down, but he staggered backwards and she wrenched the crowbar out of his fist, moving past him.

She smacked him once, to the back of the neck. Almost an incidental blow, she was already heading for Clarence.

He reacted more slowly than a vampire should, stumbling backwards and staring from Frank to Kerry. Daylight might not have put him to sleep, but it weakened him. Kerry spun the crowbar in her hands, twisting it so that the claw faced outward. She hit Clarence before he could make a sound. Multiple blows aimed at the torso and throat. By the time she stopped her hands were shaking too much to hold the crowbar, her jaw ached and she realised that she was gritting her teeth.

She didn't know if Clarence was dead. If, when the sun went down, he'd start to heal. There wouldn't have been a pulse. She didn't want to touch him, even if there was.

She straightened and looked around the room. Curtains. Heavy blackout curtains. If the crowbar hadn't been enough, sunlight might work. Stumbling to the window, she dragged the fabric aside with blood-slick hands.

There were shutters. Solid, wooden, nailed shut.

Fuck. She was going to have to behead him. Nausea seized her stomach, making her curl forward, gasping in shallow breaths. There was no way. She just had to hope that he was dead. If he had some crazy healing powers to go with those crazy daylight-functioning powers…

He wanted to kill Michel.

Fuck.

With a sob, she went back to Clarence. He looked dead, blood across his torso, gauges in his throat. Surely he was. Catching up the crowbar, she went back to the shutters.

The shaft of the crowbar was slick with blood and slipped through Kerry's hands when she tore at one of the louvers. She wiped it on her jacket and tried again. This time the louver snapped. She moved to the next one. Refused to think about what she was doing, concentrated on the task, snapping one wooden slat at a time. Working painfully slow.

Clarence screamed when the sunlight hit him. Not dead then. Kerry leant against the splintered timber and gasped in a few shaking breaths. She almost gave up – like she had last time. Almost let nature take its course without any more from her.

Like before, she couldn't. But she couldn't save Clarence either. More sunlight. There was barely a blotch of it so far. It would take too long – it was cruel. Ignoring her protesting muscles, she hooked into the next slat and wrenched at it.

By the time a wide shaft of late afternoon sunlight bathed Clarence, he had stopped moving. His body was burnt, dark blood bubbling on his chest. Everything was quiet. Frank hadn't moved. She couldn't remember how hard she'd hit him.

Curling up in an antique wingback chair by the windows, she looked out over the city.

When darkness fell, she was still looking.

Probably the stupidest decision she had made since Michel had come back – if it could be called a decision. It was really the opposite, a lack of decision. It wasn't that she hadn't expected there to be other vampires where Clarence was. It was that she hadn't considered it at all. Hadn't thought about anything. She should have.


	17. Chapter 17

As dusk spread across the city, sounds began to echo through the penthouse. Doors opening. Voices talking, sharp with alarm.

Kerry lifted her head, chin tilting up to listen. Vampires. Had to be. The timing was too precise for anything else. Biting into her bottom lip, Kerry glanced across at the door. That latch would last all of five seconds against humans, never mind vampires. There was no chance she could stay here quietly and expect to be left alone. They could scent quantities of blood. The blood in here would more than suffice.

Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around the handle of the crowbar. An empty gesture. It might have been enough to save her from Frank and Clarence, but not from a group of vampires after sunset.

Night was their hunting ground, and she was trespassing.

Someone rapped on the door, the sound tearing through the silence and making Kerry jump.

"Sir?"

The voice was cold – slightly worried. Kerry licked her lips. Whoever it was would be able to smell the blood. They might know Frank's scent enough to be able to tie it to him, but that wouldn't necessarily trouble Clarence's subjects. Vampire kings probably ate their humans on a semi-regular basis.

But soon the vampires at the door would realise that they couldn't hear Clarence's heartbeat. When they came, she was going to have to have a plan.

Voices spoke. Kerry could pick out a few words. _Human…surround…perimeter_. She guessed the rest and braced herself.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall so hard that it shuddered.

Five vampires ghosted in, spreading out with two of them going to Clarence and the others keeping her in their sights.

Kerry slammed the hook of the crowbar onto the floor and used it to lever herself to her feet, turning to face the vampires. She met their gazes, one by one, nodding to each.

A male stepped forward, fangs bared and snarling.

"Oh stop," said Kerry. Her voice was husky with remnants of distress, but she sounded stronger than she felt.

"You've killed our regent!" growled one of the women by Clarence.

"You have a new regent now," said Kerry, voice losing its huskiness with each word and coming out as sharp as a blade. "And he will not appreciate you harming his queen."

The male closest to her blinked, eyes wide in shock.

The woman stared at her before exchanging a dark glance with the vampire beside her. "You can't possibly expect us to believe…"

"Oh, you'd better believe it. I have no idea what Clarence was like as a regent, but I can tell you that if you hurt me, I will be merciless." She blinked and glanced toward Clarence's burnt and broken body to demonstrate the point. Refused to let herself flinch at the sight of it. Continued speaking. "Kill me, and you will not survive it."

"As though Michel will care what happens to a human," snapped the vampire by the door.

Kerry stretched her spine before rolling her shoulder. All of the muscles in her upper body ached. It was lucky that her legs hadn't given out. Even if she had the stomach for more violence, her body wasn't capable. That was more of a relief than anything. Kerry had had her fill of killing.

She propped the crowbar on the seat of the chair and leant on it, studying the vampire who had spoken. "You want to test that theory?"

None of the vampires spoke, all glancing quickly toward the male closest to Kerry. Obviously he was the one she'd have to convince.

He shook his head, pacing the floor. Finally he stopped and snarled. "You," he snapped, motioning to Kerry. "Sit down. If the regent does not come for you by midnight we'll have ourselves a feast. If he does…" He shrugged and trailed off.

Kerry bit into her lower lip. Obeying the order was probably a bad idea. Instead she turned away and leant against the window frame, watching as the lights flickered to life across the city. Not stepping down so much that the vampires would think she was scared of them, but still stepping down.

Midnight was hours away, but it might not mean anything. Michel probably knew that Clarence stayed awake during the day, which meant that he'd think she'd failed. Just because he was prepared to die to save her, it didn't mean that he was prepared to die when he didn't even know if she was alive. She wondered if she'd make it to the desk to get her bag. Texting him was the only sure way to get him here by midnight.

"She moves, drain her," said the lead vampire, boots sounding out sharply as he stalked out. That put those plans back on the shelf.

Kerry sank into the armchair again. She was going to need another game-plan. Tousling a hand though her hair, she glanced around the room. The other four vampires were still there. Not a good sign. Most humans wouldn't need that many vampires to guard them, but she had just taken down the regent and his bodyguard. She was too big a threat to be treated lightly.

Leaning back in the chair, she rubbed her forehead, trying to massage away the numbness that had come over her since killing Frank and Clarence. She'd probably be able to figure it all out if she wasn't so exhausted. If she didn't just want to crawl into bed and forget the world.

Something outside of the room slammed and Kerry started, fingers tightening on the crowbar. Moments later footfalls sounded in the hall, growing louder.

"Out."

Only then did Kerry turn in her seat; the voice pulling her as though it was a physical entity.

Michel stood in the doorway, hair longer than usual and a smear of blood on his grey shirt. He wasn't looking at her, gaze going across the four vampires instead. They exchanged glances and headed past him, out the door, obeying the first order from their new regent. Michel closed the door behind them.

It had been maybe half an hour since the sun had set. Michel would have had to have broken every speed limit out there to get here so soon.

Kerry would have stood, but she could feel the anger coming off him in roiling waves even from the other side of the room. She was in no state to hold her own against him but, at least sitting, she'd be able to hold steady. He ignored her, going to crouch by Clarence's remains, studying the charred mass. He looked up finally, gaze going past her to the broken shutters. Nodding to himself, he rose and walked over to her.

"Good job." His voice was frosty, layers of menace thrumming through it, and he still wouldn't look at her.

"Don't." She already knew where he was going with this. He was furious, she got it. If she'd thought about him before she started this, she would have been prepared for it. But she hadn't thought about him, only about saving him. "Just, please – you can yell at me. Just don't…"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Yell at you?" Laughing softly, he shook his head. "Why would I yell at you? You've done better than if I'd coached you through it step-by-step."

"Michel."

He grinned at her, sharp and predatory. There was something in his eyes that was too similar to his expression when Marsala had been torturing him and there had been no way to escape. "I knew it would be useful having a human around. Especially one that was in love with me."

Wrapping her arms around herself protectively, Kerry scowled at him. "Stop. I can't handle these games today. Just – I can't…"

He laughed at her. "Games? Oh, Kerry. It's a game when I'm being nice to you. This? This is real." He swept his gaze across the room again, padding across the floor by Kerry restlessly but never going too far. "How did it feel?" His tone was casual, but he glanced back toward Clarence's body so that she'd know what he meant. When she shuddered, he pressed on. "Was he alive when the sun hit? Did he scream?"

Biting back a sob, Kerry let the crowbar drop, drawing her knees up and burying her face in them.

Michel twisted his fingers into her hair and tilted her face toward him. There was no pity or forgiveness in his expression, and Kerry was grateful when her tears blurred him out. "You should be delighted. You've made me king. Obviously I'm going to make you rich. And it took what?" He touched the fingertips of his free hand to the splintered shutters. "Half an hour of work? A few calloused fingers?"

She hit him, her forearm connecting with his face. Then she just kept hitting, lashing out blindly between body-wracking sobs until she couldn't breathe. He didn't move away so she did. Curling as far back in the chair as she could, she wrapped her arms around her knees, face tucked in. Her lungs ached; arms felt bruised and tender, shoulders tight.

Michel let her sob herself dry. Didn't speak or move to touch her even when she was done.

When she lifted her head, blinking tears from her eyes, he was leaning on the window sill, studying her. More vampire than ever. For all the emotion he was showing he may have been carved from marble.

Pulling the hem of her shirt up, she scrubbed at her eyes and wiped her nose. She was already covered in blood. Tears and snot weren't any worse.

Michel levered himself off the window sill and crossed to the desk. When he came back he handed her a tissue box. He sat back on the window sill and watched her as she pulled out wads of tissues and blew her nose.

It took a while but finally she uncurled from her ball and set her feet back on the floor. Michel leant forward, hands closing around the wooden arms of the chair and pulling it closer. He didn't let go. She hooked her foot around his ankle, trying to pull him in.

"I assumed you'd be dead." His voice was cool, as though it hadn't much mattered to him either way. It was as close to an apology as he was going to get, which was good. If he'd actually apologised, he would have been lying.

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Kerry.

He huffed out a breath. "Don't even worry about it. You are a constant source of disappointment to me."


	18. Chapter 18

There were perks to being queen. Michel kept telling her that she wasn't, but the other vampires knew better. They used the titles and obeyed her even when it evidently annoyed him. It was still trashy. Kerry teased Michel about how trashy it was, and sometimes she left vampire-king erotica on the bedside table so that he'd see it when he woke at dusk.

It was going on dusk as she stepped out of the elevator at Mallory Tower. The vampires on the door let her in and she headed for the room Michel had taken. It sucked coming back to the place she'd killed two people night after night, and she was pretty sure that that was why Michel refused to move. He might have apologised, but he hadn't forgiven her. Even after she'd spent the first two weeks of her post-murder life sobbing and refusing to get out of bed.

Still, she was good enough at vampire games that she didn't let on that it bothered her. Sometimes she was good enough that she forgot to be bothered by it.

Without knocking, she slipped in to Michel's room, kicking the door shut behind herself. He was sitting in bed reading one of the vampire-king novels and didn't look up. "The woman in this novel is much more attractive than you," he told her. "As a vampire king I feel entitled to a woman at least as attractive as her."

"Let me guess, a bombshell blond with legs that go on forever?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "How shallow you must think I am. Obviously I'm talking about her personality. Her personality is more attractive than yours."

Tilting her head at him askance, Kerry sat at the foot of the bed, stretching her legs alongside Michel's.

"When her vampire king gives her orders, she obeys," Michel divulged, transferring the book to his right hand so that he could stroke her ankle with the left. "She also allows him to drink of her."

Kerry held a hand out for the book and Michel passed it over. She flipped to the blurb, scanning it quickly. "Well, there's your problem. Her vampire king is a sinewy hulk of bronzed muscle. As a queen, I feel entitled to one of him."

Michel snorted before narrowing his eyes. "You're not queen," he reminded her.

"Not sure who you're trying to convince here." Kerry tossed the novel aside and began to get up.

Michel's hand closed around her ankle and he tugged her down to his side of the bed, catching her knee when she was closer and pulling her in. He'd been careful with her in the past few weeks. Had tried to make it look as though he was indifferent, but it was kind of hard to hide the fact that either he or some other vampires he trusted were with her every hour of the night.

For the first few weeks, Kerry hadn't thought about it. What with the crying. Though she'd barely left Mallory Tower so there hadn't been much to notice. Now that she was more on top of things, it was starting to occur to her that she was an even bigger liability than she had been. "Is it a problem that I killed Clarence?" She managed to keep her voice steady, and Michel ran his gaze over her quickly.

"No crying at the mention of that name? No curling up in bed and begging me to leave you to your misery?"

Kerry shrugged. It wasn't anything that she wouldn't do again. And she might have been sorry that it had to be done, but she couldn't see what other option she had. "No one's going to accuse you of assassination, are they?"

Michel sighed. "No." Something in the pause before he spoke made Kerry suspicious.

"No, but..?"

When he merely laughed, shaking his head, she frowned at him.

"Killing the king – regent, whatever. It's not usually something people get away with. Even if you're the next in line, isn't there a price to pay?"

He caught her face and kissed her mouth –quick and rough as though he didn't want to risk enjoying it too much. "It's done. I was accused. I was cleared."

Kerry raised her eyebrows at him in question, but he shrugged as though there was nothing else to the story. "Was I cleared?"

"You're human," said Michel, rolling off the bed to his feet and going across to the closet. He'd taken over Clarence's penthouse, people and duties, but Kerry didn't think it was a role he had ever wanted. Maybe she was projecting. Maybe he did want it and she just hoped that he didn't.

"I'm human, so…" she prompted as he shrugged out of his shirt and rummaged for a new one.

"If a stray dog attacks a person, it gets put down," said Michel. "If that dog belonged to a king, no one would touch it."

Kerry threw a pillow at the back of his head and he laughed. "Be grateful they think so little of you. You'd be dead if they didn't."

"And you're not dead because?"

He turned back to her, pulling a new shirt on. She bit her lip, watching as the expanse of flat stomach disappeared under the fabric. When she dragged her gaze back to his face, he was studying her speculatively.

"You're having those feelings again." His voice was a little rough and it occurred to Kerry for the first time that she hadn't had those kinds of thoughts about Michel since Clarence. He'd obviously noticed, but she was kind of surprised that he cared.

He hadn't tried to touch her in the past few weeks. Not like that. He'd curled up around her for the long nights. Letting her sleep or stroking her back when she woke with screaming nightmares. Not every night. Michel would never be that selfless. But more nights than she would have thought he could manage. And he rarely told her that it was her own fault – though he couldn't keep from mentioning the fact occasionally.

Michel raised an askance eyebrow at her. "I could pull the shirt off and come back to bed?"

It was crazy how tempting that offer was; vampires in the next room not-withstanding. But – there _were_ vampires in the next room. Kerry tossed her head, turning so that she could swing her legs over the side of the bed. "That sort of talk may pull some lowly peasant. As queen I demand to be romanced."

"Mon Dieu, femme. You are not a queen." His voice was sharp with annoyance, French accent clinging to the words, turning them into a purr that made Kerry shiver.

"As queen I object to your tone," she said. It was weird how quickly the wanting rushed back after the weeks of treating Michel as no more than a glorified teddy-bear.

He laughed and came back to her, cupping her face in both hands and turning it up to him. For a moment he studied her, gaze cold as though assessing her for weakness. Then he kissed her. His mouth was as hard and cold as his gaze, unyielding against her lips.

She slipped her fingers under the hem of his shirt, tracing the line of his hips, the hollow of his spine. Wondering how she had managed to sleep beside him so many nights without wanting this.

He pulled back first. "Let's go and romance you then."

He took her to a carnival in the extensive city parklands. The point was probably to go on rides and play shooting games to win tatty stuffed animals but, once there, Kerry kind of hated the idea of letting go of Michel's arm. He didn't seem all that willing to pull away either. Finally she tangled a hand into the hem of his shirt and drew him into a narrow alcove between two of the stalls, pressing him against the weathered metal of the donut truck and kissing him.

His hands curved to her waist, pulling her in before he rolled her around and pinned her to the truck, mouth not leaving hers.

Again, he pulled away first, eyes dark and serious. "I want to turn you," he said.

Kerry blinked at him. When she tried to pull back she hit the truck. He didn't follow – and he wasn't pinning her. "We've talked about this," she protested, not letting herself consider his suggestion. She wasn't as opposed as she had been before, but this was a decision she had to come to on her own. She didn't want to wind up immortal and with no one to share that existence. "I'm not…"

Michel shook his head. "A vampire queen must be a vampire. When we spoke of you staying human, I had no expectation of ever becoming regent. Now that I am…"

"You want a queen who fits the image."

Michel hissed at her in frustration. "I want you," he gritted out.

"But as a vampire."

Michel ran a hand through his hair. "How do you think this is going to work? A regent with a human? You're part of the food-chain. How do you think that looks?"

"What do you care how it looks?" Kerry went to shove past him, but she'd forgotten how much stronger vampires were. He didn't budge when her shoulder hit his chest. She fell back instead, hitting the donut truck again and glaring at him.

He caught her chin, tilting her head up to glower back. "How it looks affects me."

Kerry dragged in a breath, almost too furious to form a coherent thought. Of course being regent would change him; it would change anyone. "You don't have to keep me around," she snapped. A bubble of panic erupted in her chest, but she pushed on. If he left her, she'd cope once he was gone. She wasn't going to fight to keep someone who didn't want to be kept. "If I'm screwing your image up and…"

He leant into her, pushing her against the truck for the third time, mouth catching hers. Everything was sharper this time. The slide of fang on flesh, his short nails against her back, his hipbone against her stomach. "You're screwing _everything_ up." The words were soft, barely more than a breath of air against her ear.

She clung to him when he tried to pull back even though she hated herself a little for not being able to let go.

He sighed and let her keep him, body tense against hers as though he couldn't stand being so close.

Kerry buried her nose in his chest and squeezed her eyes shut. She could handle a Michel who valued his life over her. But one who valued this ridiculous new title over her? Dragging in a breath, she drew away from him even though it felt as though she would shatter. "If you need a vampire to stand by you, then you should look for one." Her voice had an edge that sounded like fury but felt more like terror.

Michel stretched his shoulders back looking trapped and exhausted.

Kerry chewed her lower lip. There had to be something deeper going on. Michel had been prepared to die to keep Clarence from coming after her; a regency shouldn't mean so much to him that he'd risk her. And he wasn't breaking up with her; he was trying to turn her.

"Are the other vampires less likely to hurt me if I'm a vampire?" It was something she should have realised before this conversation had started. "That's why you're still not letting me out of your sight?"

He didn't reply, turning away and letting out an angry breath. But that had to be what was going on. Michel was never going to just tell her.

"Michel…" Kerry trailed off and rubbed her forehead. "If we decide to do that – to turn me – that's a permanent decision. You'll be stuck with me forever."

He laughed, the sound harsh and scratchy. "Your point?"

"Wouldn't that be kind of hellish for you?" demanded Kerry. Even if he never got tired of her, having her there would have to be a constant reminder of his frailty.

His eyes darkened and he reached out to curl his fingers into her hair. "Heaven can be lonely." The admission was soft, accent distinct. He looked away and swore in French before turning back to her. "I lie." His voice was crisp and cool as a winter wind. "Regularly. But I need you to believe this, right now. I want you in my world. Whatever the cost, I will pay it and not think it too high." His tone was icy, as though he hated that he had to tell her so much, but it was part of the price he was willing to pay.

Kerry trailed her fingers down his chest, mapping the muscle through the thin material of his shirt. "I want you too." Her voice broke on that sentence. They were both too used to lying to be able to have this conversation smoothly.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she flushed. He'd admitted love and she was still talking about wants.

"I can't," she said. "That's not…"

He shook his head. "It's fine." Something about how quickly he said it made her think that he wasn't ready to lay everything on the table any more than she was. "You will turn though?"

Kerry slipped her fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and shook her head. "I don't think the situation is as dangerous as you think it is. Your guys are actually pretty scared of me."

"I'm not willing to take that risk," said Michel, his fingers closing over hers.

Kerry got that vampires were cautious by nature, but she thought that most of them had been safe for far too long. "Let's see how much of a risk it is before we do anything. If it gets more dangerous I'll turn."

Michel studied her. "I've noticed," he said finally, voice soft and wistful. "That you break promises now."

It was true. She'd lied and broken promises. It had to catch up to her sometime. Shuttering her eyes shut, she nodded. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see if I'll come through."

"The same as you've always done for me." Michel sighed, carding a hand through his hair. "If I'd paid more attention in church I might have seen this coming; what with all the talk of reaping and sowing."

Kerry laughed at him. "Come on. Where's your sense of adventure?"

Michel's brows arched upward in surprise. "I think you're my sense of adventure," he said. "And most days I dislike you intensely."

She leaned in to him, fingers skimming across his shoulders, curling around his neck to draw him in. "Well, you're stuck with me."

He bent over her, nipped at her throat and pulled back. "Should I buy you cotton candy, win you a pink rabbit or take you on the most secluded ride they have?"

"Uhm…"

"What's the quickest way to fill your romancing meter?"

Kerry snorted. "It's pretty full already," she admitted. "You've got a safe-house near my place, don't you?"

He let out a breath, eyes darkening as he watched her. "You want us to be alone?"

When he put it like that it made heat rush into Kerry's cheeks. But she was nothing if not determined. "Oh, yes."

Michel caught her chin, flicking his gaze across her face. "You're ready for that?" His tone was cool, as though it wasn't particularly important, but he was concentrating so hard on holding still that his fingers were too tight against her skin.

Until now she hadn't realised that Michel would understand how difficult sleeping with him again would be. Not just that she didn't feel like she deserved to be happy after killing Clarence; but that it was all tied up in Michel. She'd gone straight from sleeping with him to killing Clarence. And if weren't for Michel she never would have killed anyone.

She wasn't at all sure that she was ready; but she wanted Michel so much that she almost didn't care about the fall-out. She flicked her hair out of her face and grinned at him. "Don't worry about me, precious. Just try to keep up."

The safe-house Michel took her to – the one he had been using while looking out for her – was four doors down from Kerry's apartment. His building was shabby, like all of the others on the block. But the interior of the apartment Michel let Kerry into was almost as opulent as Clarence's penthouse.

Kerry looked around, undoing her jacket. He hadn't said anything, but she'd put some things together.

"How long ago did you buy this place?"

Michel smiled at her, caught the collar of her jacket and used it to pull her into his arms. "You'd been in your apartment about six months."

"Huh." There was nothing to be smug about. Michel would have bought this place before he had feelings for her – back when he'd hoped to use her. It explained why he'd arrived with a safe-house and no laundromat cover story though.

"Would you like a tour?" He was leaning so close that his breath tickled her ear; arms wrapping her close to him, fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt, tracing the kinks of her spine.

"Can you hear my heartbeat?"

"It's fast." Michel's voice was languid – and self-satisfied, as though he was congratulating himself for the effect he was having on her.

"Yeah," said Kerry. "I'm not actually excited about your décor."

His brows arched in surprise and then he laughed at her. "No tour? You wound me, Kerr. Should I assume that you'll be wanting to see the bed?"

Kerry tilted her head at him, lips quirking up. "Or the couch. Or the kitchen table. Or the Persian rug. At this point I'm not fussy."

"Bed," said Michel, swinging her up into his arms. "You might not have standards, but I do."


	19. Epilogue

Three weeks passed before she saw him again. They hadn't discussed it. He had let her stay beyond dawn, and she had fallen asleep late into the afternoon. When she had woken, he wasn't there. She'd had a cursory look for a note, but wasn't surprised when she didn't find one.

He'd play it off as needing to get onto regent duties or something. The truth was that everything between them was a bit of an emotional overload. And he wasn't the only one feeling it. Conceptually, a close relationship that involved a partner who was there for support and entertainment sounded fantastic. In reality, Kerry needed her own space too much to ever fit in with that sort of arrangement. It was clear that Michel was the same – only possibly even more so.

After two weeks, Kerry was ready to see Michel again. It wouldn't have been difficult. On the third night, she caught a glimpse of the vampire who had been sent to watch her so she knew that he was still around. But he'd been alone decades – possibly centuries longer than her. He was more used to his own space. She kind of assumed he'd need a month or two before he had the slightest interest in seeing her again.

She figured that she'd use the time constructively.

The vampire – a female a few years older and significantly taller than Kerry – frowned when Kerry walked across to her.

Kerry grinned. "So, all things considered, I'd better start learning your laws."

"I'm not allowed to talk to you," said the vampire.

Kerry creased her nose. "So says your king. I'm your queen and I demand that you teach me."

She got her own way. Akinyi ended up getting babysitting duties most nights, so they sat in the library or late-night cafes or Kerry's apartment and cram studied vampire politics and history for the next two weeks until Michel came back.

He found her at the laundromat; studying for a new set of exams while Eve and Sarah tried to flick gummi bears into each other's mouths. Before she realised that it was him, he was leaning over her, pressing her back into the hard plastic of the laundromat chair. He kissed her – just once, behind the ear. If he was being Michel, he would have said something scathing about the length of her skirt. But, with Eve and Sarah around, he was being Teddy and Teddy was too sweet to ever scorn his girlfriend's dress sense. So he merely skimmed his fingers up the length of her bare thighs, raising his brows at her when he connected with the hem of her skirt.

She quirked a smile at him. "You're back early."

He ran his gaze across her face, mapping her expression. Finally he tilted his head forward, eyes shuttering to show that he understood what she was saying. That he could have taken longer if he'd needed it.

He glanced across at Eve and Sarah, then back to Kerry, gaze lingering on the textbook in her hands. "Are you free tomorrow night?" He sounded moody, and Kerry thought that he'd wanted her tonight, but was settling for later because she was with her friends. Odd that he didn't ask her to ditch them for him. Then she glanced at him and realised that he probably would have, if she hadn't let him know that she was fine with him disappearing on occasion.

Compromise. Kerry hadn't thought that the word was even in Michel's vocabulary, let alone it being something that he'd try without being forced.

She grinned at him, blazingly happy at even this much of an indulgence. It wasn't that she didn't like fighting him. She did. Just – not all the time; not on every single thing; not through the months, years, decades – possibly centuries. "Tomorrow's good."

He nodded and straightened. "Mallory Towers at sundown?"

She blinked her agreement, a long, slow sweep of lashes. He was halfway to the door before she opened her eyes again.

#

Akinyi was the one who opened the door when Kerry knocked. She jerked her head in the direction of the French doors that led to the balcony and Kerry nodded a thank you.

She found him on the balcony overlooking the city. He must have heard her coming, but didn't turn even when she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, leaning her head forward to press her face into his back. Lifting his hand, he stroked her fingers twice before turning in the circle of her arms so that he could look down at her.

"You haven't changed your mind then?"

She grinned. "I'm not as fickle as you seem to think."

His expression didn't alter, giving her no hint as to whether he was relieved or disappointed. "I've discussed your role with Clarence's advisor." His voice was distant, as though there was something more pressing on his mind than her. "He's agreed to instruct you in the ways of a queen."

Kerry flickered a smile at him. "You manipulative fiend." Her tone was lazy, and more affectionate than she had been trying for.

His brows rose, eyes sweeping across her.

"Vampire regents do not share power," said Kerry. "You're the first who has – which makes me the first queen. There are no rules for that. I do what I want, and that is the way of a queen."

After a shocked silence, he laughed at her. "My God." Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close enough that breathing became an issue. "What have you been up to, you scheming human?"

She twined her arms around his neck, luxuriating in the feeling of his body against hers, his mouth at her throat. "Trying to keep up with you, you deceitful vampire."

He chuckled against her; the sound becoming a purr when she turned her face and nibbled his jawline. "I can see that it's going to take some time to sort out who's on top."

She took as much of a breath as she could in the close confines of his arms. "We've got a lifetime. Play your cards right and I might make it two."


End file.
